I Will Follow You Into the Dark
by comesatyoufast
Summary: Abby had been friends with the late Jessica Hamby for years, and when she finds out her friend is alive, kind of, dating somebody, and living with a 174-year-old vampire, things change a bit for Abby, and not always in a good way. BillxOC
1. Chapter One

**Hola!! Here's the highly-anticipated Bill story. Chapter One!! I'm excited.**

**Enjoy!!!**

**--**

**Chapter One: The Great Escape**

**--**

I scrunched up my face, my coffee was cold. Then again, that made sense. It was about six-thirty; I'd been busy all day sifting through auditions and characters and lesson plans – I was exhausted.

Thankfully, spring break was only a week away. I choose the cast – they study their lines while vacationing, and we come back and put on a spectacular production of _Romeo & Juliet._ It was going to be much easier than the _Beauty and the Beast_ of a few months ago. _That_ was pure chaos.

Sean was constantly saying that I spent too much time on these things. That it isn't as important as I think, which is just a big fat lie. I mean, when we put on a good show, not only does it benefit the community, the school, and my paycheck – but the students in the play. Doing a good job is easier to remember than something that totally blows.

I sighed, and stood up, walking out of my classroom for the day. The door was locked, the cold coffee in the trash, and my things in my bag. I took a second to stop and see if I actually looked as tired as I felt, and, surprisingly, I did not. I liked how I could still stay awake for hours, and still look fine, like back in college. It came in handy. I was pretty cute, if I do say so myself, and it doesn't take a lot of up-keep. I had dark, dark brown hair, short and curly, bangs parted to the side, everything shiny and neat. My eyes were pretty big, and a bright blue that usually attracted some small amount of attention. I had a light tan – living in Louisiana did that to you, but it was hard to me to really get that golden brown look that was customary, I burned so very easily.

Once I made it outside I moved over to where the construction crew was working, saying my usual goodbye – they worked here just like I did, might as well make a good impression.

"Why are you boys still around?" I asked, hand on the chain-link fence surrounding the area.

The closest one shuffled over to me, pulling the little cart they used to house the TV (which was only to be used on breaks, they assured me) along with him.

"Hey, Mrs. T," he said, "Why are you still here, if you don't mind my askin'?"

"Late night. Audtions," I held up a file folder, "I'm glad to be finished."

He nodded, "Don't blame ya," he smiled.

"Yeah, well, I think I should be heading to my car now. Good night… um…"

"Hoyt," he supplied happily, nodding as I turned to leave.

"Miss Tyler!!" I heard, making me whirl around then frown a bit. Jason. Again. I stuck my left hand in the air.

"Do we have to go over what this means again?" I said, "Seriously, Jason. I'm married."

"And I don't care," he smiled, leaning against the fence, "Can't we just have a drink or something? As friends, even. If that's more your style."

"Sorry," I said, smiling a little – I was flattered, really, "But, cheating ain't really_ my style_. I have more work to do for tomorrow, and I think you do as well." I laughed a little, he was so relentless. We'd been going over this routine for about a month now.

He sighed in a very over exaggerated fashion and turned back to the workers – now all staring at him in this moment of rejection, "All right! You heard the lady! Get busy, boys!"

I chuckled a little and made it to my car, unlocking the door, sliding into the front seat, and starting it.

Then I started it again.

And again.

And- shit. It wasn't working.

I tried again.

One more time… nothing. Shit.

I got back out of the car, then got back in and tried it one more time, "Please, please, please don't do this to me…"

Today, my Saturn obviously was not feeling very merciful.

Shit. I got out of the car again, and stood there like some kind of idiot. I realized, about half way through that I _was_ really standing there like an idiot, but I kept standing there. Finally, I took a breath, before walking back over to where the guys were working, "Um…"

"Yeah?" Jason had magically appeared in front of me again, "Rethink that drink?"

"No. I, actually, wanted to talk to Hoyt, if that's okay with you?"

He rolled his eyes, but stepped out of the way, muttering something I couldn't understand. Hoyt walked over, "Something I can do?"

"Actually, my car… just… it's messed up. I was wondering if I could bum a ride off of anyone who isn't Jason," I laughed a little at my lame joke, smiling at him.

"Well, I actually get off in just a few minutes, and I don't have to be home for another hour or so – I could swing by your place and drop ya' off if you'd like."

I nodded, "Perfect."

"Okay, Just give me a second, then," he smiled and went back to what he was working on, and I leaned against the fence, waiting.

It wasn't long until I was in Hoyt's truck, local radio playing in the background, on the way home. Finally.

"So, Hoyt, you got yourself a girl friend or something?" I asked, trying to make a conversation.

"Yep," he said, "Jess and I have been together almost to two years," he nodded as he spoke, looking over at me, "And you're married."

"Yep. Three years this November." I nodded as well.

"What's your husband like?" he asked, "Must be a really great guy to get someone like you," he laughed a little. I smiled. The construction workers only liked me because I gave them the leftover donuts that we don't eat in my first period advanced drama class.

"Sean's great," I smiled, "Very smart. He just got out of law school, has his first real job since college," I nodded some more. I tried to keep what I was saying more clipped, because I had this tendency to just keep talking.

The radio was filling the silent pauses in our conversation. Now some lady was saying, "The family is still granting a reward to anyone who has information on their daughter's capture. It's been two years since the disappearance of seventeen – now nineteen-year-old Jessica Hamby from Shreveport."

"Hey, can I turn this up?" I asked, my hand on the dial.

"Sure, go ahead," he said, not really paying attention to the story.

"Hamby was last seen in her home on March 17, two years ago. Police had seen no evidence that suggest any foul play, and yet still, _two years_ after their daughter's disappearance, the Hamby family still reaches out for help to locate their daughter," the woman continued.

"Damn," I muttered, "That's crazy."

"Yeah," Hoyt said quietly, "It is."

"Would you believe me if I said I knew her?" I almost whispered, than my voice grew a little louder, "We lived next door to each other for as long as I could remember. I left for college, and then my mom called me and told me she disappeared," I shook my head, "It's insane, you know? We used to be so close – her father was a total jerk, and I sometimes think that she probably just ran away, and that if I had still been there, maybe she wouldn't have. I'm talking too much," I turned the volume on the radio back down as Jessica's story came to a close. I'd talked through most of it anyway.

"Wow," Hoyt said, "That's really something. You must have really cared about her."

"Oh course I did, she was like a little sister to me," I said, "She had a sister too, but I don't think she liked me much. I was a lot more… tame in my imagination than Jessica was, then again, I guess that was because I wasn't limited in the things I did like they were. I- I am still talking a lot – Oh! There's the street. It's this house up here, the yellow one."

"Okay," he said, pulling into the driveway and turning to look at me, "If it's any consolation, Mrs. Taylor-"

"Oh, call me Abby, really. That whole Mrs. Taylor thing gets old," I grinned, "Unless it's Jason talking." I laughed a little again.

"Abby, then," he said, "I'm sure wherever Jessica is, she's fine."

I smiled, "Thank you, Hoyt. That's a very kind thing to say."

He grinned and nodded, "See ya' tomorrow Mrs. T."

"Okay," I said, rolling my eyes and shutting the door.

"Sean?" I said, opening the door and walking back to the kitchen, "You here?"

"Yep," he came up behind me, wrapping his hands around my waist, "How was your day?"

"Okay. I needed to get one of the construction workers to give me a lift home because my car broke down again," I sighed, "I'll take care of it though. How was _your_ day Mr. Defense Attorney?"

"Amazing," he said, light brown hair falling into his eyes, "You'd find it boring, but it was spectacular."

I grinned, "You're probably right, babe," I leaned in and kissed him quickly.

The rest of the night, what Hoyt had said gnawed at the back of my mind. I kept thinking about her. It was just too weird, knowing that someone you used to be so close to was never going to speak to you again. She was gone.

--

The next day I didn't walk directly into the building as usual. I walked over to Jason, who was staring at me, as usual.

"Hey, do you know how to fix a car?" I said, pointing over to my piece of junk in the parking space I left it last night, "Because I would really appreciate a little help."

He agreed, after some careful heckling and bargaining, which basically ended up with him fixing my car, and me having to do nothing in return. It was a good start to today.

"Hey, Mrs. T," Hoyt called me over, why he was still unable to call me Abby, I didn't know.

"Yes Hoyt?" I asked, pulling my bag up on my shoulder.

"Are you going to be staying late again tonight?"

"Of course," I said, "Call backs are tonight. I'll be here until eight, probably. Aren't you all supposed to be home by then?"

"Well, I got a little surprise for ya," he said, "To cheer you up a bit. After everything you said last night-"

"Oh, that's really not necessary," I said, shaking my head, "I mean, you don't have to-"

"It's nothing. I just think you'll really like what you see tonight." He smiled.

I turned to leave, Jason telling me my car would be fixed by the time I'm leaving.

--

Call backs were much less torturous than regular auditions. The parts of Romeo and Juliet I had down, as well as Benvolio, it was Mercutio I was the problem with.

It got to the point where I just stopped caring, I figured I'd stop thinking about it now, and force myself to make a last minute decision tomorrow morning before posting the list.

Ah, tomorrow. It's the last day before Spring Break. I was almost too excited. An entire week to just forget about all this work I have coming.

I drummed my fingers on the table. It was about eight, like I said. Outside, everything was dark, and I had to take a deep breath before I stood to leave. Tomorrow was going to be crazy, I knew it, but I was a little excited. The other teachers keep telling me that this excitement I'm feeling will leave with age, I am only 24. My two years of teaching hasn't been enough experience to really regret going into the field. Their sarcasm is a little annoying; it's so strange to see such a pessimistic edge nowadays.

I grabbed my things and walked outside.

"Abs?" was the first thing I heard.

"Oh shit!"I practically screamed, almost dropping the file folder I was holding, "This isn't-"

"Shut up and hug me, bitch!" Jessica yelled coming up and grabbing me quickly.

"You're freezing!" I said, "Jesus, Jess, what the hell- Oh… my," I stopped, "You… could have called me to tell me you were-"

"Dead?" she supplied, a little sarcastically, "Abby, I didn't think you'd-"

"Understand? How about a little credit my way, Jess… I don't have a problem with," I took a breath, "Jesus, you're actually a vampire."

"I knew this was a bad idea. Why did I let you talk me into this?" she said loudly, turning back to look at Hoyt.

"No, Jess," I walked back over to her, "It's a great idea, I'm _so_ happy to see you again- I thought you were actually dead. I mean, I never thought, oh _man_, Jess." I felt like I was going to cry or something, but I swallowed. I was such a little wimp, but it wasn't like I could help it or anything.

"Oh, Abs," she said, "It's been so crazy. I missed you so much."

"We need to get together. Not at my place, of course, Sean has this thing about vampires, doesn't trust them, around me at least."

"Sean?"

"I'm married, now, sweetie," I said quietly.

"Shit, Abs! You got _married_? Where the hell was I?"

"Missing, genius."

"Oh," she said, "I guess you could come by my house, we could leave now-"

"No," I said, "I've got to get home, what about this weekend? After tomorrow, I'm totally free for a few weeks," I said, a little quiet. I don't care _what_ she is, I realized. She was still Jessica.

Our conversation was much too rushed, but I had to go. I was exhausted, and a little sleep would help me a ton.

--

Jessica's house was big, and old. And far away.

Luckily, everything I say Sean just believes. Jessica said it had to be because I was so innocent, it was as though I could never lie.

I disagreed. I was a fine liar, I mean, I taught drama, so I was a pretty good actress (that whole 'if you can't do, teach' thing is a load of bull. I can do. I _choose_ to teach).

We were still talking about it when we reached the house; she opened the door, Hoyt scuttling in behind her, looking around for something. "It's those big, light blue eyes of yours," Jess said, rolling her own eyes, "Everyone just has to trust you."

"I disagree," I said, "I've done my fair share of the ill-mannered-"

"Ill-mannered? What are you, eighty?"

"Ha _ha_," I said, dropping my bag next to the door, "Right, Jessica. But seriously, I don't think someone just _trusts_ someone completely because of their eyes. It's because he just _trusts_ me. We're partners, or whatever. It's all about trust."

"Bullshit."

"I know," I giggled a little, "But still, it's all about the love, girl."

She laughed, and I fixed the dress I was wearing – a nice little brown number I found at a thrift store not too far from the school, Shreveport was _full_ of deals – over my dark jeans, the turned to look at Jessica.

"What's Hoyt doing?" I asked, looking over at Jessica's boyfriend, who looked utterly confused.

"Looking for Bill," Jessica muttered.

"Who?" I asked, looking around curiously. She hadn't mentioned anyone else the entire ride down here, and I lived a good couple hours away, about forty five minutes from Shreveport if left at the worst time possible.

"Vampire Bill," Hoyt tried to clarify, looking at me as if I should know who this person was.

"Um," I said, "A little more help, please?" I said, turning to Jessica.

"My… maker," she said, "I guess. He owns this place. He doesn't like it when I let humans in, doesn't think I'm capable of controlling my own actions – I'm not going to eat you, Abby."

"Thank you for that," I said, looking around. Is _he_ going to eat me? I couldn't help but think it, I mean; I'd never really been around vampires. I didn't know how they operated.

"I don't think he's here," Hoyt said finally, turning back to face us, "You think he's in Shreveport?"

Ironic, really.

"Don't know why he'd wanna be," she muttered, "After everything that happened with Sookie. Shit. He's going to be so pissed that I brought you around," she stopped, "He'll have to deal though. I missed you so much, he's gotta understand that. I mean, just because he happened to have some girlfriend trouble shouldn't totally eliminate my human interaction, right?" she looked at me hopefully, as if I knew the answer to her question.

"Right?" I tried, a little sheepish.

"Oh, what do you know?" she said, "Here, take your stuff, go upstairs, get ready for bed. It's already pretty late. You're going to have to mess up your sleeping schedule to keep up with me," she winked.

I laughed, "Okay, then." I yawned despite myself, I was pretty tired. I got the whole weekend here in Bon Temps, though Sean doesn't actually know where I am, I knew that this whole situation would just drive him insane.

Hoyt said bye, and left, and Jessica showed me around upstairs, pointing me in the direction of the shower and the bedroom, the house only had one, but, obviously, neither of the current occupants had any need for it.

Jessica turned and looked at me, "I would love to stay up and chat, but you look exhausted. It's about an hour 'till sunrise, so think I'll just go on and sleep. You can take a shower, get dressed, go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow night."

I nodded, "Okay Jess. I'm glad you found me," I said, "I missed you."

"Oh, shit," she muttered, running over and hugging me, "I missed you too. I can't believe we haven't seen each other in six years. It's – shit! I'm crying."

I laughed, "Ew," I took a small step back, "That is really freaky."

"I know," she wiped the blood from her face, "You aren't crying. Bitch."

I smiled, "Sorry."

Jessica smiled, "You better get cleaned up. There's blood on your neck."

"Ew," I muttered, "I'll see you tomorrow."

I let the water run over my face, and sighed. I loved showers. They were so warm, comfortable. They gave you the opportunity to actually think.

I was thinking about how the little girl next door can now kill me.

It's not like that's an easy thing to really get a grip on.

I turned off the shower, stepping out and grabbing a dark red towel. I shivered a little, that shower wasn't long enough to heat up the bathroom for me. Wrapping the towel around me, I stepped outside and grabbed my dirty clothes, darting across the hall into the bedroom.

"Night!!" I heard Jessica shout before I shut my door. I chuckled a little and put the old clothes into my bag, pulling out an old t-shirt to sleep in and tossing it onto the bed. I grabbed a pair of underwear and pulled them on under my towel, grabbing my brush and positioning myself in front of my mirror to brush my hair before I changed.

It was about four; the sun would be coming up pretty soon. It was so weird to think that I was going to sleep during the day, because that way I could stay up all night with my vampire friend.

Jesus, I am not going to get used to that any time soon.

I shook my head, my hair whipping around, some of it dry, some of it still wet. I turned around, reaching to undo my towel when I heard someone say, "Who are you?"

"Shit!" I shouted, trying fervently to keep a hold on the towel, which fell substantially but thankfully did not show anything too overly embarrassing. I blink, and spun to see a man standing in the doorway. He was just a little taller than me, but still made me a bit uneasy. He had dark hair, and was wearing a grey shirt, dark pants. I swallowed, and kept my hand firmly on the towel.

"Um…" I didn't know what to say. It's not every day I meet a vampire. Especially while practically naked.

"Who are you?" he repeated himself firmly, seeming slightly amused by my reaction.

"I'm… um," my mind was racing – I'd seemed to have forgotten my name, "Um… Ab- Abigail. Taylor. Abigail Taylor. Abby." I nodded, "You must be Bill." I walked forward and held out my hand, "I'm a friend of Jessica's. She told me she didn't tell you I was here, though I guess it was a bit presumptuous of me to actually expect that she'd have texted you or something by now." Do vampires text? Well, yeah, it's not like they can telecommunicate or anything. Can they? Shit, I don't know.

"Then again," I continued, as Bill finished shaking my hand – his skin was cold - and it returned to holding my towel, "I could have told her to, to avoid this exact… situation. I'm talking a lot, but it's very nice to meet you." I stopped and clamped my mouth shut.

He didn't say anything for a second, "Jessica doesn't usually have visitors," he walked in, looking around, and stopped in front of me, "So you see this is kind of a surprise."

"We've been friends since we were kids. I work up at Mayfield High School, in Shreveport, where Hoyt's working," I stopped talking again and swallowed, "Um," he was really close, I realized, and I took a step back and looked around, "So, we were re-introduced. It's not like I'm going to tell anyone what happened to her," I tried to clarify, "No one even knows why I'm here."

He nodded. I bit my lip, I couldn't help but think he was… attractive. I blushed a little at the thought, then turned and looked out the window. He had a pretty pair of eyes, they were really-

"Excuse me for interrupting," he said, "I'll let you get back to…"

"Dressing?" I supplied, laughing a little half-heartedly. I looked back down.

He didn't say anything, just smiled a little, "Well, good night," he finally said, nodding in my direction, then he turned and left.

"Bye," I muttered.

I stepped up a little to shut the door, and watched him head downstairs. He glanced up once before disappearing downstairs, and I felt my breath catch in my throat, and I turned quickly and shut the door.

I could have _sworn_ I saw him smirk.

--

**There we go! I hope you guys like it!!**

**Reviews are fantastic. So very fantastic.**

**Looking forward to chapter two?? I know I am.**


	2. Chapter Two

**Heeey! Here's chapter two. I have a nice littler surprise for all of you: we're POV switching!! Abby, Bill, Abby, Bill, and so on. Enjoy!! Oh, and no reviews this chap, I can't get my computer to let me look at them. :/ I know a few of you did review, and thank you TONS!**

**--**

**Chapter Two: If I Fell**

**--**

I exhaled. It felt like the first time I'd done that in hours. It didn't necessarily feel good, kind of like I was kicked in the gut. I narrowed my eyes as I drove onto the road, trying to set my thoughts straight. I hated coming all the way up here to sit in front of Eric Northman as he told me what to do. I could not stand it.

It didn't help that Sookie was always there – at Fangtasia, of all places. That pissed me off more than anything, the fact that she stood around in the company of those who would have her dead in a second if it wasn't for Eric. And the way she acts with Eric, that's just as bad. It's like she is trying to make this impossible. I cannot stop obeying Eric, but I can be angry with Sookie. She's the one that left in the first place.

Maybe Jessica was right. I'd spent too much time thinking about her. It has been over a year since that proposal. She said no. There is no way I can really change that. Maybe I was just too stubborn, too thick-headed to really believe that my heart (or what semblance of one I have) has been broken. That would be the only possible explanation for my irrational anger every time I saw them together. Her hand delicately placed on his shoulder, his eyes following her around the room. It was disgusting.

I looked up; the house had come into view. I got out of the car, slamming the door of my car unnecessarily and walking inside, opening the wooden front door, realizing that I would need to calm down and not break the thing off.

"Nooo!!" I heard a squeal, "I am _not_ singing. I'm fine with this."

"Oh pull the stick out of your ass and sing – you used to do it all the time when I was little." Jessica's voice sneered. She never used such blunt language with me, well after her first few days in the household. This was probably for the best, seeing as I wouldn't take it as well as her friend.

I heard a scoff, "Since when did I get a stick up my ass?" the other one replied, and I stepped closer to them, walking away from the steps. The human was lounging on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, eyes surprisingly calm for such biting words. She probably did sing when Jessica was little. She seemed like the type. There was also probably the fact that Jessica was a rather unruly child – the thought of that made me shutter. A younger, brattier version of Jessica Hamby was the last thing this world needed. And to think she was stuck as a teenager for eternity did not seem to rest my mind in the slightest.

"I dunno," Jessica said, eyes looking up as if trying to think of an answer, "Probably about the same time Lawyer-pants came into the picture."

"Shut up," Jessica's friend looked annoyed and was currently grasping a toy guitar, one that I had never seen before, "You don't even know him. Sean is an upstanding individual, sweet, secure, not crazy – like everything you've gotten yourself into."

Jessica was staring at her, trying to figure out what she really meant when she said that. I was as well. It wasn't Jessica's fault she was a vampire – did the human not know that? I shouldn't refer to her like that. If I start saying that in my head it'll come out later, and Jessica would just get angry.

It was sad, really, that my own personal thoughts have actually become controlled by Jessica, everything has to do with her – because it's not like I can just get rid of her anytime soon. She's still young, still dangerous. The fact that I'm even allowing this human to stay with her unsupervised – even without Hoyt, is highly irresponsible. As is the human as a whole, with her thinking that this is a good idea. In fact, human relationships are usually wholly disregarded once one friend trades species. Once one can kill the other in less than a second, a rift in the friendship usually occurs. It only makes sense. Jessica may have had some connection with this girl when she was a child, but it can't be as long-lasting as she makes it sound. It's not like any one person can be so affecting upon someone else's life.

What was her name?

"Abby, shut the fuck up," Jessica said, "Take the mic, and sing." Jessica shoved the play microphone towards her friend, who didn't budge.

Abby. Right. She looked up, bright blue eyes seeming a little sad, and I wasn't sure why. I was more confused, though, on how this game made its way into my house, "Jessica, what is that?" I pointed to the television, where there were animated people singing 'A Hard Day's Night.' The girl – Abby, I corrected myself – turned around quickly, blushing a bit at my appearance. It was a little amusing, but my attention was turned to Jessica.

"Oh, I… bought it," she smiled a little weakly, "Well, you bought it."

"I did?" I wasn't attempting to be humorous, but Abby laughed, quietly, but it was still a laugh. I needed to learn how to keep a better handle on my credit cards. Jessica had a knack for buying things without my knowledge, she's grown accustomed to it over the last year. But honestly, it's not always bad. It's pretty handy having a microwave around.

"Beatles Rockband," Jesscia said, "It's awesome. Even you'll love it."

I looked at the game, "What makes you think I will enjoy this?" I had to admit it was a welcome distraction from what was currently on my mind. Maybe, when Jessica was away, I could give it a go-

"It's fun," Jessica said, "watch, Abby is about to sing." She smiled devilishly, and handed Abby the microphone.

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head, "N-No."

Jessica gave her the mic, and pulled the guitar off her. The girl just sat there, a little stunned and embarrassed. Jessica didn't seem to mind, "What song should we do, Abs?"

"No," she said again, holding the microphone away from her. I smiled a little, and walked out of the room to shrug off my jacket. While I left she suddenly rushed, "_Fuck_ no, no, no, no. I refuse. No."

Jessica's voice dropped, "_Mrs_. Tyler has a thing for the vampire, now isn't that precious?"

"Jessica, don't be pretentious."

"Don't be a prude. Your taste in men is a bit iffy," Jessica laughed, "But it's not like illegal."

I heard a short intake of breath, and then Abby began to rush out in a harsh whisper, "I'm not a prude, you have no clue what my taste in men is-"

"That's such a lie," Jessica said, her voice normal once again as it reverted back to its former snide, "Remember when you were in high school and I _totally_ called that thing you had for your best friend's brother?"

"David's brother was a fluke."

"What was his name… James, I think."

"You had no idea what you were talking about. He just came over to help me with my report."

"But I was _right_."

"Fluke."

"You have a thing for older men – how old's Sean?"

I walked back into the living room, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

"I'm not going to play along-"

"How old is Sean?"

Abby sighed, "He's twenty six."

Jessica just laughed, "You're so predictable. I'm voting 'I Saw Her Standing There."

"Jess! I told you I'm not going to- She was just seventeen, you know what I mean-"

Jessica laughed a little, but kept her eyes on the screen, fingers flying across the buttons, "See? You're doing fine. You have a pretty voice."

"I hate you," Abby said, her top bar lighting up at she said so.

Jessica kept laughing, and then glanced over at me, "I don't care what you think, I'm not taking it back."

I shrugged, "It's not like we can't afford it."

"Since I saw her standing there," she kept singing, glancing back over at me, "You guys are loaded?"

"Bill is," Jessica said, "So, I get the benefits," she smiled, and kept playing.

Abby laughed, "Oh we danced through the night," her face was a still a bit pink, and she was making a point not to look at me. I wondered if it was because of my… intruding on her the night before. That could not have been pleasant. "And we held each other tight, And before too long I fell in love with her," she sang.

She smiled, glancing over at Jessica, standing up to grab her drink and singing as she did so. She was fun to watch, he had to say, cute little bounces with the music. She was wearing a black shirt, buttoned in the front, sleeves rolled up, and a pair of jeans. She seemed so much more mature than Jessica, who was wearing sweatpants and a tank top. It was surprising that they were getting along as well as they did. Especially with the utter friction Jessica's personality inevitably caused after extended interaction.

"Yes!" Jessica said happily, "That's five stars!!" She grinned, "You're singing from now on."

"I'd rather not," she said, putting a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Liar," she smiled, "You're fantastic. Maybe you should teach choir."

"No," she laughed, "I stop at musicals. I'm not very fantastic." She wasn't lying, it wasn't all that great. She did hit the notes, though, which is more than what you could say about Jessica.

"So, what play are you guys putting on this year?" Jessica asked, turning off the game, and glancing back at me, with a look I couldn't figure out.

"Romeo and Juliet," Abby said, giving the microphone to Jessica and glancing back at me as well, looking at Jessica with a confused air. "It should prove fascinating, watching these kids do Shakespeare." She snuggled back into the couch, sighing as she did so.

"Huh," she glanced over at Abby, "I've never seen it." Jessica leaned forward, interest seemingly piqued.

"Read it?" she asked, downing the rest of her beverage and walking off into the kitchen, looking back at me again, cheeks getting pink.

Jessica shook her head, "No," she stood up, and looked into the kitchen, "I've always wanted to, I guess."

"You guess?" she questioned, "It's great. I have the whole thing memorized."

"I doubt it," Jessica said, sitting on the couch and looking over at me, "Are you going to sit down, or keep watching us?" I could feel my eyebrows raise and I quickly sat in the chair before Abby walked back in.

She was surprised by my change of position and paused for a moment, but came in and sat by Jessica, "I do, actually. It's helpful when it comes to reading lines and things," she looked down at her can – she was drinking Dr. Pepper – and traced the rim on the can with her middle finger.

Jessica looked at Bill, "Do you believe it?"

"It's possible," I said, shrugging and pretending to be interested in my cell phone.

"Go ahead, tell me some Shakespeare."

"Okay," Abby said, looking down and rolling her eyes a bit, "Two houses, both alike in dignity-"

"That's the easy part," Jessica said, "Anyone can do the beginning, I want the _real_ thing – Bill you have Romeo and Juliet right?"

"I'm not sure," I said, looking up and over at the girls, "You could check."

"I have a copy in my bag upstairs, actually." Jessica was up and gone, and Abby and I exchanged glances. I wasn't sure what to question, Jessica's sudden interest in Shakespeare, or her rejection of Abby's credentials.

"You are WAYYY too organized," she shouted from upstairs.

Abby smiled a bit, I cleared my throat, "I'm sorry for… barging in on you yesterday. I wasn't having a very good night, you could say."

"Oh, it's fine," she said, "Jess told me about your girlfriend. That really…" she seemed at a loss for words, "blows." She laughed weakly as Jessica came back downstairs. I smiled a little, but I was so off-put with that particular wording that I was more confused than amused.

"Here," she handed me the book, "Be Romeo."

I smiled, "I'd rather not."

Jessica looked a little shocked, "You think she'd do a bad job? She's a professional."

"I didn't say that," I started, but Abby stood up anyway.

"Just do it," she said, "Open it up wherever you like. Just read the first line." I opened my mouth of object once again, but she sighed, "If _I_ do it, it'll be weird. They don't do girl on girl Romeo and Juliet, otherwise it would be Romoette and Juliet." She laughed at her joke, but Abby and I did not.

"Okay," I said, opening the book to a page near the beginning and glancing at Abby before speaking, "Um. If I profane with my unworthiest hand/This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand/To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

"This is my favorite part," she said to Jessica, "You sure you want to hear this?"

"We're doing more. I saw him open it near the beginning. Cheater."

Abby rolled her eyes and looked back at me, then down to the front of the book, "Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss." She smiled a bit, and said the lines very matter-of-factly, nodding a bit near the end.

"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?" I looked over at Jessica, "Is this really necessary?"

"It would be _weird_ if I did it!" she said loudly, "Go on! I would like to see how good at this you _really_ are."

Abby grimaced, "Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer." She giggled a bit, I guess it was because of my face – which had become suddenly aware of what was happening. She glanced over at Jess, "Do you even understand what's going on?"

"Not a clue," she said, "Continue."

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair." I looked at her quizzically.

"Now I get it," Jessica said, "This is cute."

Abby rolled her eyes, and blushed a bit before saying, "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake."

"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take," I muttered, looking at her, in confusion, she just shrugged a little, glancing over at Jessica – who surprisingly seemed a little transfixed on the words, like she really wanted to see what was going to happen next. Abby nodded permission, I leaned forward, our lips touching briefly.

"Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged."

Abby got a little surprised, and I chuckled a bit as she said, "Then have my lips the sin that they have took." She was red, but Jessica didn't seem to notice.

Jessica leaned forward, looking curiously up at the two of us.

"Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again."

"This sounds funny – hearing you say it," Abby said, looking at me affectionately, "It's… nice. Very interesting."

Jessica growled, "Hello? Storyline to follow."

"We're supposed to be kissing right now," Abby said, "If I'm correct."

"You kind of ruined the moment," I smiled knowingly.

"So they kiss," Abby rushed out, biting her lip and pulling her eyes away from mine to look over at Jessica, " and then Juliet says, 'You kiss by the book', and then her crazy nurse came to get her." She moved her hand, in and 'yada yada yada' gesture, and turned around to grab her drink.

Jessica grinned, "Crazy nurse?"

"Oh yes-" Abby turned around, "You didn't actually think the play just revolved around Romeo and Juliet interaction? There are other people in the play."

"Why would I think that?" Jessica muttered, I went to sit the book on the table, but Abby turned around and grabbed it before I could do so, and handed it to Jessica.

"Go ahead and read it," she said, "It's fantastic." She took another sip.

Jessica examined the book for a second, "Okay," she looked up, "But, I think I'm going to go get Hoyt, for tonight."

"Of course," Abby said, "I'll get it the next time I'm in town – Like you're going to read the whole thing tonight." Jessica shot her a look, but stood and went for the door, "Bye Jess," Abby said, watching her wave then close the door, leaving the two of us alone.

"Well," I said, looking around for something to say.

"How long have you been living with Jessica?" she asked, sitting on the couch and crossing her legs, holding the can in her lap and looking up at me. She played with the hem on her shirt, biting her lip.

"A little over a year," I replied, trying to figure out where I should sit, and she turned a bit on the couch, so I just sat there.

She smiled vaguely, "Yikes. I can't even handle seven hours a day, five times a week."

"You'd think a teacher wouldn't mind."

"I don't," she said, shaking her head, "I like teaching teenagers – that's why I teach drama. It's a high school class."

"You don't like kids?" I asked.

She smiled again, looking over at me, "I _do_. I'm just not… Hm. I'm a great aunt. My husband's brother had children, we watch them all the time, Andrew and Alice. But… I'm not really a mom. Kids and I weren't met to be. I mean," she shrugged, "Everyone kept telling me that one day I was going to fall in love with some fantastic guy, and subsequently fall for every single baby I see. Which just isn't _true_, I mean. I'm _married_, and I still have no desire for children."

I couldn't help but laugh a little, "You're still young. You've got time." She rolled her eyes, and then looked at me, "I'm serious." I said.

"I have reasons," she said, smiling a bit and leaning forward some, "Number one," she cleared her throat, "I really hate babies."

I laughed, "Babies?" I looked away for a second, "And they're having debates on whether we're a menace to society."

She laughed too, "Really. They cry and drool and _scream_. Ugh. It's disgusting. I couldn't do it. I mean, I'm a good person-"

"Oh, I can tell," I interjected, and she glared at me.

"But I have a natural aversion to things that will puke on me." I laughed, and she continued, "Number two," she adjusted her position on the couch, "I'm terribly impatient."

This surprised me a bit, "You don't seem like it."

"That's just because I'm quiet," she shrugged, biting her lip again, then studying her soda. "But number three's the killer, the one reason I'm positive my mother-in-law can't stand me," she took a breath, "I can't get pregnant. Bum uterus, I guess," she was a bit red, "But the point is, it ain't gonna happen."

"You could adopt," I said.

She smiled, "You're not the first to come up with that amazing idea," she muttered, "I just… Some girl grow up just _knowing_ that they're going to be a mom. I wasn't sure, but when I found out it was impossible anyway… It's just not for me," she sighed, "Did you have kids?"

"Yes," I said, nodding, "It was a long time ago, of course."

"How old _are_ you?" she questioned, "If you don't mind my asking."

"One hundred and seventy-four."

"Damn," she said quickly, then her eyes got wide and she looked down, "I mean, you've really got me beat," she laughed weakly, "By about a hundred and fifty years."

I smiled a bit, and she bit her lip again, looking at her drink and then standing suddenly, "I'm tired. I think I'll go shower and sleep. Yeah." She walked around, "Good night, Bill," she said the last part quietly, as if debating whether or not to say it.

I just watched her go upstairs, feeling very, very confused, and not even knowing why.

**--**

**Thanks a lot for reading! Now how about a review?**


	3. Chapter Three

**Hey.**

**Here we are, chapter three already. It's long. It's in Abby's POV. It's ready for your eyeballs.**

**That was weird. I'm sorry.**

**But, anywho, I hope you enjoy!!!!**

**--**

**Reviews:**

**murgatroid-98:** Hello! Thanks for the review. It's only going to get more complicated. And Yay.

**piper1715:** Thanks!! I'm glad to be writing again. And I'm glad you like it!

**AnnabelleLee13194:** I like your penname. You're very interesting. There will be no husband killing in this fanfiction (unless I get an even better idea than what I currently have that involves husband murder) and when it comes to cheating hoes, well, we have to see where this goes. ;P But I have a plan, that I think will be pretty unexpected.

--

**Chapter Three: **Fighting For Nothing.

--

I shut my door quickly, leaning back against it and sighing heavily. Jesus. I don't think I've ever been in such an awkward situation in my life. The breath started to come out slowly between my lips, and I could feel the blood begin to leave my cheeks.

Why couldn't we have done some other play? Why didn't I choose Godspell or Wicked or… shit, I could have chosen any other play.

Well, I guess I could not have predicted having to rehearse with an exceedingly handsome vampire. I raised up my hand, gingerly touching my lips – _that_ was weird. I was so glad it didn't have to happen again. Not to say it was _bad_ – it was quite the opposite of bad, really. I could feel my face flush at the thought. I should _not_ be thinking that. I walked across the room. This is bad, isn't it? No, not really. Real actresses kiss other men all the time; no one has a problem with that. But I'm not a real actress, I'm a teacher! Teachers don't kiss other men – especially attractive undead men.

"Stop thinking that!" I whispered harshly, walking back across the room. I bit my lip, smiling a little, despite myself.

It's just a crush. At least, that's what I'm going to tell myself – No! That's the _truth_, shit, what am I saying? I sighed, biting my lip again. Okay, I was overreacting.

There is absolutely _nothing_ wrong with me. Bill's… nice-looking. So what? He's interesting. So what? I'm perfectly happy, with my _husband_, who I'm seeing _soon_. I'm leaving tomorrow night, as a matter of fact.

I went to bed that night, my head still buzzing. Then again, that had to be normal after kissing a vampire. It was oddly… enticing, rebellious… and dream-inducing.

This explains my reaction to seeing Bill the next day – er, night.

--

I was in front of the microwave, making popcorn. Jessica had taken it upon herself to stock the pantry with some human food for Hoyt and myself, seeing as she has made it very, very clear that I was to come down very often. I think she just really enjoyed having another girl around, especially someone who knew her before she changed. It must be so nostalgic for her. I don't know how much of a big-sis type of role you can take with someone who could so very easily slaughter you, but Jess and I were working on it. I liked having her back as well. It felt good to have someone to talk to about Sean, about Sean's family, about Sean's job… It's not like I could talk to the kids about all this. I mean, I certainly had my insecurities when it came to these things.

I mean, I love Sean, of course, but there are just some things that seem so odd to me, about him, especially. He doesn't understand why I love my job so much. He loves being a lawyer because of the praise that comes with it, from the media to the government – his new firm even takes on vampire clients, and is actually shifting to a more clearly vampire market. They're trying to stay very fashion forward in the legal world, and everyone always wants to sue a vampire, or arrest a vampire, or get angry with a vampire. I don't understand why, but then again, that's why he's the lawyer, and I'm the teacher.

And his family – talk about insufferable. His mother cannot stand me. I don't know if it's because I took her little baby away, which I could see as a possibility, seeing as Sean is the younger of the two brothers, or if it actually is because I physically cannot have children, as I told Bill the night before, but no matter what I do, she always finds a way to make something my fault, or make a "joke" at my expense. Sean says it'll just take some time for her to come around, but I don't see this happening, it's been three years, for crying out loud, you'd think she'd just get over it.

They say love conquers all, and I guess that's why I put up with all of it. I mean, otherwise, I'd have a serious problem on my hands, right?

I mean, some people think I may have rushed into my marriage. I was only twenty-one, but it was one of those things, where you just _know_. I would look at him, and just… know that I was in love with him. He was enigmatic, and kind, and smart as hell, every time I was around him I just felt special. He seemed to incredibly down-to-earth, yet so unattainable. It was a little hard to explain, I guess.

It was just this vibe you get off him. It was like no matter what happens, and everything is going to be perfectly okay.

The microwave beeped. I blinked once, and reached forward, opening the door and turning around- "Oh my god," I rushed, coming to a stop before I even started walking. "How are you so quiet?!" I shrieked, which was totally unnecessary, but Bill's sudden appearance behind me scared me much more than he probably anticipated.

That's when the dream decided to make its way back into my head. He said something I didn't hear, because I was much too preoccupied by the flashing scenes playing themselves out in my mind. I could feel my cheeks getting red – which only makes sense, really. I mean, my lips buzzed with the lack of activity my brain kept saying could be there, my fingers tingling as I imagined my hand intertwined with his, the other running through his hair, or resting on his chest, maybe scrunching up that blue shirt of his. Maybe his hand running under my shirt, or even up my thigh, teasing with an expertly placed hand on the skin of my hip, directly above the top lining of my underwear-"Soda!" I said loudly, stepping around him and walking back to the fridge, top shelf, Coca Cola. "So, it's night already, huh?" I said, trying to make myself sound so much cooler than I felt. I downed half the drink, hoping the chilled liquid would help my body temp drop.

I smoothed out the ends of my skirt, and then ran my hands around the waist, resting them there for a second before walking into the other room. The black skirt made my legs seem even paler, not that it mattered, I was still the tannest in the house when Hoyt wasn't around. I sat on the couch, crossing my legs and popping a piece of popcorn in my mouth. I bounced my foot in the air, flipping through the movie channels on Bill's television as I waited for Jessica to come upstairs – she sleeps much more than necessary.

I ate another piece, hearing the microwave go off again, "Huh?" I said, "Why are you using the-"

He walked in, stuffing a hand in his pocket and glancing over at me, "It's better warm," he pointed to the bottle in his hand. Tru Blood.

"Oh," I said meekly, turning back to the TV, some romantic comedy starring some actress I wasn't sure I knew the name of. I probably did, I just wasn't focusing.

I don't know if vampires enjoyed romantic comedies. I put the remote in the middle of the couch, between Bill and I, and acted like I wasn't really paying attention while I waited to see if he'd change the channel. He wasn't really paying attention either.

I looked up, and flipped the channel, some scary movie came on- one that I hadn't seen, of course.

I thought about changing it back, but my interest was fully piqued. I was soon leaning forward, hooked on every little word coming out of the mouths of the characters. Everything was quiet, that is until I jumped about a foot in the air and screamed bloody murder when suddenly – out of _nowhere_, this gigantic purple tentacle thing shot out from under the door, attacking this teenager and ripping off chunks of his skin.

"Oh, _shit_," I said, leaning back in disbelief.

Bill laughed, and glanced over at me, I looked from him back to the television, "Why are they just standing there?"

"You haven't seen this one?" he asked.

"Do they _NOT_ see that thing? It's EATING that child!"

"He's about nineteen, actually," Bill said.

I looked over at him, "You are incredibly disturbing."

He just smiled, Jessica came up stairs, pulling her hair back into a pony tail, twirling around in a white dress, "What do you think?"

"Still not letting you inside," I sighed, "It'll be _early_, he'll freak out if he has to deal with my arrival and the introduction of my vampire friend. Besides," I shrugged, "I told you, he's not very… open to the idea of my fraternizing with um…" I searched for the word, "You eat people by definition, you can see how this would be a bit unsettling," I sighed, again, "Sorry to be so…"

"Blunt?" Bill supplied.

"Well, yes. When are we leaving?" I questioned.

"I was thinking we'd hit it at about three-thirty," she shrugged, "Hoyt's available for driving, I'm guessing," she glanced over at Bill, "That you'd like to say goodbye or whatever, but I didn't think you'd want to drive. So Hoyt's drinking a ton of coffee and making his way over." She smiled, walking in and sitting next to me, in between the two of us, "Oh _come on_, Abs, How _old_ are you?"

"What?" I asked, bouncing my leg a little bit more, and leaning forward as the movie suddenly got incredibly quiet-

"You've been obsessed with these stupid movies since I was a kid. I can't believe you still watch them. I couldn't be alone in my house until I was twelve."

"It's not my fault you were a wimp."

"Bill," Jess turned, "Do you think it's a good idea to start watching 'A Nightmare on Elm Street' with a seven year old girl?"

"Who cares what he thinks about this particular situation," I shrugged, "What's done is done. Who was the only girl unafraid of scary movies once you hit preteen-dom? You. You're welcome."

"I couldn't sleep, I was terrified that if I did that thing would come and kill me-"

"He was a man, who wore a glove with knives attached, how incredibly hard is this to understand. Freddie Krueger is _not_ a monster. I swear to god, you're going to be thirty-four, and I'll still have to explain this to you."

--

"Abby," I spun, setting the juice on the counter, and Sean smiled at me, "You're back."

"Yep," I said, "I haven't spoken to Jessica in years, she's already talking about having me back," I spun around, "Eat up, go on, you've got work soon, correct?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, walking forward and wrapping an arm around my waist. It was our usual greeting, it seemed. He hugged me slightly, "I missed you."

I chuckled a bit, turning around to face him. Sean was tall; I stood up straight and pulled him closer to bury my face in his neck, kissing him lightly. "I know," I muttered, smiling.

"I'm not very hungry," Sean whispered thickly, and I couldn't help but laugh a little.

"That's a shame; I went to all this trouble…" We kissed, his lips were soft and warm, such a stark contradiction from my recurring fantasy that I was almost surprised. Our lips stayed together longer than I expected, and I pulled back, "Don't you-"

"I'll be late," He rushed, pushing me back a bit, unbuttoning my top, and I did the same for his, trying as hard as I could to push the images involving Bill Compton out of my mind, focusing on Sean.

He slid my skirt up, pressing me against the counter, "Sean," I whispered, more of a reminder to myself than anything else—I could not get that man out of my head. It felt like an invasion of privacy, having Bill constantly appearing in my thoughts. I shoved him out of my brain, paying attention to the man in front of me. I wondered, vaguely, between the tugging of clothes, the mashing of lips, and the warring of tongues, why this was happening.

I wasn't going to _object_ or anything, but when it came to work, Sean was incredibly devoted. It was his life, the one thing that got him more excited than anything.

Excluding me, of course. Well, sometimes.

Somehow, we'd made it to the couch, and I was soon laying there, exhausted. I hadn't slept in hours.

Sean didn't know that, though, and the more I thought about how he would take my cavorting with the undead, the more hesitant I became to tell him. So I just played it off, rolling over against his chest, closing my eyes briefly. I felt disconnected. Not from Sean, really, but more like everything. I felt awkward, like I was the one last piece of the puzzle that didn't quite fit.

I don't know whose puzzle it was, and honestly, I didn't really care. It just bothered me that I wasn't a part of it. I pulled my hand into a fist, looking up at Sean. "Hi."

He laughed, "I," and then sighed, "Wow," he squeezed me.

My fingers played with the end of the couch, messing with the stray threads of a blanket under me. I was still clothed, surprisingly; my skirt was hiked up a bit, and my rolling over to allow Sean to get up only pulled it up a bit more. Sean must have noticed, because he slid a hand along my thigh before placing a quick kiss on my forehead—all between pulling back on the clothes I so greedily tore off in the crossfire.

He said his goodbyes, kissing me one more time, before grabbing his briefcase. I wondered how late he was going to be, I had absolutely no idea what time it was.

I sat up, hearing the door shut. I was tired, or I should have been. I'd been up all night, talking to Jessica, mainly. I stretched out my legs, wiggling my toes and trying to think up what to do. No school for the next few days.

--

It was a purple dress. Dark. With a black cardigan that I pulled over, covering up my arms and shoulders. To top it off were my black heels, a pretty big contrast from my pale feet, but it wasn't like I minded. No one was going to be looking at my feet.

The evening seemed so much warmer than it really was. The sky had colored itself that toasty orange, with scarlet seeping up from the ground, like each splash of color among the gray clouds was another stab into the earth, causing it to bleed into the sky. It was cool for the middle of spring, the air bit at me, carving deep down into my bones. Sean asked me if I was okay, but I refused his jacket. I don't know if it was my own masochism, or my own pride.

We were fighting, not so much now, but just moments ago I was yelling at the top of my lungs for no reason other than my own nervousness and discomfort at the whole situation. He was yelling back, condemning me for pessimism and a lack of confidence I didn't know I had. Apparently, one can just not see things like this about one's self. The fact that I had to whisk myself away from a neatly planned evening in front of my TV set was the least of my worries, it annoyed me, but it didn't make me so angry that I could barely stand the presence of anything that reminded me of Sean.

I hate cocktail parties, anyway. They're so incredibly pointless, dull, and fake—nothing about them is appealing to a girl like me. They weren't as glamorous as everyone seems to think they are. It's just a bunch of snooty people acting like they were even snootier than necessary. It was times like these when I get reflective.

This is where the argument started.

Sean was dressed already, wearing a suit and a blue tie. His hair was combed back just perfectly; he even exchanged his contacts for glasses. He looked so… professional.

I looked like a mess, or so I thought. I was running around our bedroom, in my dress, one shoe on, fervently searching for its mate, while trying to decide what I was going to wear to fight the cold. My hair was brushed, but I still hadn't even looked at it, and the theory of make-up seemed wholly out of my reach.

"Hurry up," he said, "We've got about ten minutes before we've got to go."

I glanced over at him quickly, "Well, if you would have told me about this prior to five minutes ago, I wouldn't be in such a rush," I snapped finding my shoe and sighed, walking into the bathroom.

"I didn't tell you five minutes ago," he said, a bit loudly, "You're-"

"Exaggerating, I know," I sighed, "It's just me being over-dramatic. _Again_." I rolled my eyes into the mirror, blinking my eyes after words and inspecting them after applying the final touches on my mascara.

"Don't get angry," he sighed, "It's just a party."

"A stupid party," I said angrily. I sighed after I did, knowing that I had to be sounding like a child, but the point was made, "I just don't see the point. I dislike going, why must I go?"

"Because this _stupid_ party," he walked over to the bathroom, leaning against the edge of the door, watching me, "is important."

"Says your boss," I said, wanting to glance over at him and see his face, try to guess what he was thinking, "For you. Not me."

"We're a package deal, right?" he laughed, "And besides, who wouldn't want me around when they see you in this dress?"

"You know that doesn't matter at all to them. I'm just proof. Proof that you have this perfect life, this cute little high school teacher back at home—the only problem's the children on the way, of course, and I know you're answer to that."

"Abby," he said, trying to get me to calm down, but I had set my own fuse.

"Sadly, it's an impossibility," I looked at him, putting a strand of hair behind my ear, "An impossibility. True enough, right? Yes. Then they keep talking, and the prefect family image is encroached upon, and you somehow think that smile of yours and this dress of mine is going to make us seem whole, even if everyone," I looked back in the mirror, "Including you, thinks that something terribly important is missing." I shook my head, vaguely realizing that there was no reason for me to be this angry, yet, I kept pushing myself to get louder, to feel more and more enraged. It was like I _wanted_ to make myself angry, to give a reason for why I felt so irrationally frustrated and confused.

My reason, ironically, was horribly irrational as well.

"That's not it at all," he said, suddenly harsh, angry at what I was saying. My head told me that it had to be because it was true, but part of me, my heart, you could say, didn't want to believe that.

"Yeah. It is," I said, shutting my eyes tightly before continuing, walking out of the bathroom and around him to grab my sweater, "I hate going to these, and you know it. You know how much I can't stand being in that gigantic crowd of people acting like I care about things like the Supreme Court and stock and whatever the hell else they talk about—I drown most of it out anyway. And you know that if it weren't for you I wouldn't be going to these things, and I wouldn't be dressed up all the time, and I wouldn't have this inane need to… act differently. I don't know what it is about these things, but every time I walk in, I feel like I come out someone completely different. It's not… me," I shrugged on the sweater, turning around and looking at Sean, feeling angry, confused, and some weird form of tugging sadness, because every single thing I was saying was true, not just some dramatic outburst.

He stayed quiet, thinking about exactly how to respond, "You knew that everything was going to be like this," he said, "From the beginning. You were the one who took up teaching, not acting, everything you did was because of you, and if you want to actually blame me for your frustration for going to a little party-"

"I hate arguing with you," I said, "You're a fucking lawyer, everything you say sounds right. And even if I know you're wrong, I can't prove anything. I'm not saying-"

"Yes, yes you are," he said, "You're saying that you blame _me_ for not 'following your dreams' or whatever the fuck you call that acting thing. It's not practical, you know, it's not reasonable, it's not-"

"Suburban," she said, "That's the word you're looking for. You're keeping me tied up in this house on the corner of the street, families living all around us, happy, peaceful—you just want me to change my mind. I know you do. I understand. But that's what you signed up for. It's not going to change just because of a change of scenery, Sean."

"You're pulling at strings, saying whatever pops into your head just to piss me off."

I scoffed, "Who gives a shit? It's working. You're getting the picture."

"Just get in the car," he said sternly, trying his best not to yell, which wasn't really working.

"Fine," I walked outside, "But don't expect me to just sit there and grin this entire night, I'd rather –"

He cut me off, loudly muttering something I couldn't understand, not yelling until he got into the car, "Don't do anything stupid," he finished.

I glared, "You shouldn't either, sweetie."

Then it was quiet.

And it still is. I don't think I've said a word all evening. The night plowed on so slowly, I mean, it was only a Thursday, I'd slept the night away, and currently had another day of work ahead of me. It's been the new school term for weeks now, and yet I still couldn't get my footing. I don't know why, but it's like I'd been flipped upside down, and I was scrambling to get upright again. Everything seemed off, still.

I took another sip of my drink, some wine I had already forgotten the name of. Sean was doing his usual best on the charismatic front, working the room as I sat back and concentrated on anything but the fact that I was here. I don't even know why, but every time I even thought of where I was, I wanted to scream.

Not much later, the phone rang.

"Hello?" I answered, sitting up straight, my voice sounding so much more… sparkly than I thought possible.

"Hey," I heard back, and my brow furrowed in confusion.

"Um…" was all I could reply, and I looked around the room, suddenly feeling very conspicuous in a room full of people dressed just like me. "Bill?" I asked, so very confused, and already embarrassed by thinking that I recognized the voice in any way whatsoever.

"Yes," he replied, "Abby, I'm sorry to bother you—is this a good time?"

"Perfect," I said, my voice a bit shaky, my body heating up, and gaining the sudden urge to cross my legs, which I did, leaning back slightly to see where Sean went, but he was preoccupied with the attentions of a rather stout, hairy man who was drinking something that from where I was seated looked pink.

"Good, Jessica asked me to contact you, she said that you wouldn't mind coming down soon, well, she had tonight in mind, but I didn't think that was—"

"Tonight is spectacular," I said quickly.

He laughed quietly, "Okay then. It's Jessica's birthday, actually."

"I know," I smiled.

"She wants you down here for that, but, I hope you don't mind, if you do different arrangements can be made, but I was already heading to Shreveport tonight, for a meeting with my sheriff—"

"I have no idea what that is."

He chuckled, "I didn't expect you to. Would you mind my picking you up this evening?"

"Not at all. When would you be arriving? I'm kind of… away at the moment."

"Not for about an hour," he said, "Midnight at the latest. I can't take you away too late, of course."

I nodded, and then realized he couldn't see me, "Y-yes. That makes sense."

"So I hope you don't mind having to accompany me on my business—no vampire interaction, required, if all goes well."

"Wouldn't it be a bit odd to be travelling with a vampire who promises no vampire interaction?"

"You can interact with me," he said, "I mean, within reason, of course. Not to be-"

"I get it," I said, laughing. "I'll be there."

**--**

**There we go. I'll see you guys as soon as possible. Some of you sooner than others, dependin' on what you read.**

**I hope you guys liked it, of course, and I also hope you'll take the time to review!!**


	4. Chapter Four

**Hey! Here's our update. I'm excited, I really love this chapter! I hope you do too, as always.**

**Oh, and MERRY CHRISTMAS! Hope this is a good present. :)**

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**Reviews:** Thanks to everyone, I don't have the time to actually reply individually this time. I've got to help make dinner.

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**Chapter Four:** Lollipop

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The night was winding down, that time of night when everything seemed more or less… still. It wasn't morning, 'it's always darkest before the dawn' as they say. It was completely quiet, unmoving silence that goes unnoticed unless you yourself are immobile.

But downstairs, Jessica and Hoyt were just getting back, and they brought company.

I stayed quiet, focusing on the sound of the wind outside rather than their conversation, not that this lasted very long anyway.

Jason Stackhouse stood in front of the stairs, I couldn't see this, but I knew it to be true since every time he was in the house, he felt uncomfortable moving from this area, even when prompted by Hoyt. I'm not sure why, it wasn't like Jessica or I were planning to do anything inhumane. This state of discomfort may have been due to the break-up; Jason and I haven't spoken since then. Not as if there was much to talk about. Conversation with Sookie's brother never really moved forward in any intellectual or distinguishable sense. This was only further enforced when Hoyt laughed loud enough to break my concentration, gasping out a, "That is not funny." Wholly untrue, he _was_ laughing.

"It's not," Jessica said, more darkly, "There's no way she would ever go for that."

"Whatever," Jason muttered, "Next time she comes down you should take her by the bar. Maybe we'll actually have a few drinks."

"I don't see that happening," Jessica laughed.

I heard some shuffling, probably Hoyt moving to set a hand on his friend's shoulder, "It is time to give up. Not every female you run into is going to…" I smiled a bit, picturing him looking at Jessica, unsure of what to say.

"Fuck," Jessica said, "Is the word he's looking for."

Jason laughed, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. But man, if I had someone like that teaching at my high school… I would be actin'."

"Yeah, like you could _act_," Hoyt said, "Jason Stackhouse, shouting out Shakespeare. That's a sight I'd wanna see."

"Shut up."

"It doesn't matter," Jessica said, "She's still not into you."

I heard some shuffling, and then Jason finally said, "Don't change a thing. She's… gorgeous, classy—"

Jessica scoffed, "Exactly, you're out of her range of _vision_, she's married to a lawyer. A real stand-up guy, someone who actually is _classy_. It's not like you're going to drag her away from that because you work out."

"You-"

"You should probably go," Hoyt got out, before Jason could say anything.

I started down towards the kitchen, the back of my throat was tingling with thirst. Jessica smiled at me a bit, and Jason was suddenly agreeing with Hoyt—now was a good time to go.

"I'll see ya tomorrow, Hoyt," Jason said, and then looked back over at Jessica, "You're telling me the next time she comes into town."

"Don't think so," she called.

"I think so," I walked out of the room to see Jason poke his head back in the door to say this, and Jason looked over at me and nodded once, "Bill."

"Jason," I said, leaning against the wall, bottle of synthetic blood warm next to my leg. His head disappeared and Hoyt shut the door. Jessica turned to face me instantly.

"When are you leaving?"

I shrugged, "Later."

She smiled a bit, "Now that Jason's finally gone, you're safe to leave," she laughed at her own little joke, and Hoyt smiled from his place at the door.

"You know he's just joking," Hoyt said, "He's not dumb enough to think he has an actual chance."

I could feel the side of my mouth twist upward into a smirk, and I looked down. Jessica turned to look at me, "Did you call her?"

"No, I'm just going to drive around until I _smell_ her," I said sarcastically, taking a drink.

She smiled, "You need a hobby, you know that? If you spend all of your time wallowing in your own self-pity the only thing you're doing is being annoying." She rolled her eyes, realizing that if she actually expected me to pick her friend up on my way to the bar, she needed to be on my good side. Even if it was her birthday.

"What do you suggest?" I asked, pulling an eyebrow up and taking another drink, my phone suddenly vibrating in my pocket, "Hold on—Hello?" I turned around to gain some sense of privacy.

"Bill?"

"Abby?" Jessica walked over, trying to stretch around to look at my face, as if by doing so she would be somehow included in this conversation.

"Um, hi," she said, sounding breathy, and a bit nervous—but she usually sounded nervous when she talked to me, like she was trying to speak in a different language, unsure if she meant whatever it was she was saying. "I hate to possibly drive you out of your way, but I can't make it home. I'm at this party—and I _do_ want to leave, don't get me wrong, but can you pick me up elsewhere?"

"Sure," I said, down the bottle quickly and chucking it into the recycling bin, walking over to grab my jacket, "Where are you?"

"Have you heard of the Huntingtons? On 25th?"

"Yeah," I said, stopping in front of the door, "You mean the—"

"Mansion? Yeah. The gigantic house on 25th. I'm there."

I smiled a little, "Why are you there?"

"Husband's party. He brought in this account, he works for Mr. Huntington."

"Your husband's fine with you coming?" I asked, putting my hand on the door and nodding to Jessica before walking outside. She jumped from the door and followed after me, yelling stuff about me needing to hurry up mixed with disgruntled mutterings I couldn't hear.

She didn't answer for a moment, but said hello to some woman who had suddenly started talking to her and then addressed me, "He's almost all too happy to see me go," she sighed, "I didn't mean that. I'm just… not very good at this whole party thing." Her voice had a bitter edge; she sounded almost sad.

"Well, Jessica will be happy." I opened my car, sliding in and leaning forward, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said, "I just… I have to go. Call me when you get here."

"Of course," I said, "I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Bill." She hung up.

I fell back against the seat, waving sarcastically to an open-mouthed Jessica, who was currently running towards the car, "What'd she say?!"

She stopped in front of the window, waiting impatiently for me to tap the button and roll it down so she could lean in. I sighed a bit, "She told me where to get her. What were you expecting?"

"I don't know. Maybe she wanted to ditch her lame family and come live with us." She grinned, laughing to herself, "I—I don't know." She looked down, as if she was unsure of what she was going to say.

"Well," I said abruptly, "I should go."

"Yep," she said, "Bill?"

"Yeah?" I answered, looking up at her after starting the car, and waiting expectantly.

She looked at me seriously, "Please don't introduce her to Eric."

I raised an eyebrow, "I thought you liked Eric."

"I like Abby more," she muttered, "Just… don't. Not that you would."

I smiled, "Yeah."

--

I shut my phone and set it on the dashboard. I turned my head to the side, looking out at the home, a gigantic house, white, almost eerie in its brightness. Compared to the dark all around, it looked like it didn't belong.

I ran a hand through my hair, then nervously smoothed it all back in place, before glancing back out at the house. The lights illuminated the inside, like it was some kind of nightlight, and when the door opened, a sliver of gold darted out onto the lawn, and then vanished back inside just as quickly.

Abby glanced back into the house, as if someone had called her name. Her shoulders shrugged as if in a sigh, and she reopened the door. I looked forward again, and the next thing I knew I heard a tapping on the glass.

"Door?" she mouthed, pointing down at the lock and wiping off the moisture from her face as the drizzle started to finally reach her, making tiny dots on her blue dress. I quickly unlocked the door and she slid in next to me, her head angling down to look at her feet as she sighed, closed her eyes briefly, and then looked up at me and smiled, "Hi."

"Hi," I replied, and she slid down in her seat, pulling her feet out of her shoes and crossing her legs. "You look…"

"Stupid," she muttered, "I hate this dress. I look like some sort of… debutant." She rolled her eyes, and pulled off some of her jewelry, sticking it into her purse, and pulled her hair out of its bun, "Better?"

"Sure," I muttered, looking back at the road. I didn't really have an opinion; she looked great either way.

She bit her lip, and I started the drive away, "Um. How have you been?"

"I've been well," I said, "You?"

She shrugged, "Ready for a break, I guess." She looked over at me quickly, "Not to say I'm running away from anything, I just… have you ever looked around, and wondered what the hell you were supposed to be doing?" she uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, studying her reflection in the windshield, and thinking for a second, "Like, you're in a desperate need of some sort of… reality check? That things are spinning out of your control and you'd do pretty much anything to just be able to get a grasp on it, understand it… concentrate." She leaned on the dashboard, hands weaving through her hair as she shut her eyes again, before springing up and sitting back, sighing to regain composure.

I looked back on the road, and just nodded a little, knowing somehow that she knew I would agree, without even looking at me.

"I feel stupid," I could hear her smiling, that sort of ironic self-pity that comes with a bad day.

"You're not stupid," I said, almost laughing a little, "Just frustrated."

"I know," she muttered, "But you're also obligated to make me feel better, that's part of being a good person." She smiled wryly, "I don't belong in places like that. I'm way too… awkward, and it shows, because it's prevalent, and it makes me uncomfortable. I feel okay playing parts, but the irony of my tragic existence," she chuckled to herself, "Lies primarily in the fact that I can't handle playing me. Not that that isn't me," she sighed, "That came out wrong."

"Most things do with you, hm?" I questioned, glancing over at her. She was so demonstrative when she talked, her motions making her seem so alive, so… passionate about everything she was saying. It was like watching a cartoon character.

"I," she frowned, searching for the correct words yet again, "I don't know. Point is, I'm out of that house, I'm away from—"she stopped herself short, "That also came out wrong. Maybe I'm a bad person for feeling this way. It's like I'm… neglecting my… myself. Or," she sighed, looking out into the rain-spotted windshield with a look of disdain. Even frustrated, she looked so pretty. Her eyes, a clear crystal blue were sparkling brilliantly, framed perfectly by her dark lashes contrasting her white skin, the blush of pink on her cheek —I didn't understand how she could be unhappy with anything, really, looking as perfect as she did. She _seemed_ perfectly fine, except for the current disarray she seemed to be in. Flustered, she looked over at me, interlocking her hands for a moment and then saying, "Or… I'm neglecting something else entirely."

I looked over and she bit her lip, eyes flickering away from me almost instantly.

"Do you think," I asked, looking at the road in front of me, "that maybe you're overreacting?"

"Of course I'm overreacting," she said, smiling, "But… I overreact a lot. It's like we're always fighting. And when we're not fighting, we're having sex!" I glanced over at her for a second, and then moved my head back to the road incredibly fast, and kept staring in that general direction, "And when we're not doing that, we're not around each other."

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. Luckily, she kept on going.

"And, a lot of the fights are my fault. I just get so angry. I feel like there's always something missing, and I'm just never really happy. He's never home, I'm never home. We don't even have a pet. It's like we're two strangers living in the same house, and even when we're asleep in the same bed, even when we're really together… it's empty. It's like there's… something missing, I just don't know what. I'm making you uncomfortable," she said, looking over, touching my arm as she apologized, "I'm so sorry. This must be really weird for you. I don't know why I feel the need to tell my life story to everyone I come in contact with."

"No," I said, my eyes drifting from the road for a moment, "Don't be sorry."

"Well, from what Jess tells me, it appears you aren't very accustomed to such a strong flow of personal conversation," she laughed a little nervously, and continued, "Not like I blame you though. The stuff with your ex is crazy. I wouldn't want to talk either. Okay, that's a lie, I'd be pissed, which means I'd talk. But not you—which is actually a good thing. You're much more pensive, you're not too irrational. I wish I was more like that."

"I wish you were too," I joked, earning a laugh from Abby.

When we pulled into the Fangtasia parking lot, I killed the engine and looked over at her. "You do not have to come inside. But, I do."

"I don't want to sound scared or anything, but I don't want to be left out in the dark, vampire-infested parking lot," she rushed, unbuckling her seatbelt and turning in her seat to face me, "But I'm sure the vampires are inside as well." Suddenly, her eyes got huge, "Not like I'm afraid of you! I just—I've heard stories, like every human has. I mean, you've seen what they put on the news, what they show at the school is even worse. I am sorry, I just… I feel safer when you're around."

I smiled, "I understand." It was cute, how awkward she suddenly became, "It's going to be pretty scary in there," I laughed a little, "You're lucky you look good in that dress."

"You think I look good?" she asked, flipping her hair and raising her eyebrows, "Why thank you, Mr. Compton."

"You're welcome," I said simply, "Let's get this over with."

"What if someone asks who I am? What should I say?"

"I'd lie," I looked back at her, "If I were you. Especially if Eric asks. If he knew that Jessica was keeping in touch with someone from her past, he might become a little… wary."

"Why?" she asked, "We're completely fine."

"Some humans don't take well to vampires, you know," I said, "And some vampires tend to lash out at their human families because of this. Or, they lose control. It happens more than you'd think. That's why she's living with me."

"Oh," she said, running up next to me, heels clicking on the wet ground, "That makes sense. Eek!" She jumped, and grabbed my arm as thunder boomed above us.

"I'd also try not to be so jumpy," I said, as we passed through Pam and another vampire guarding the door, and walked through, looking for Eric on our way to the back. As we walked into his office, Eric followed us in, eyes seemingly attached to Abby. Sookie was nowhere to be seen.

"A human was attacked last night. Just under a mile away from here," Eric said.

"That's horrible," I said, looking over at Abby, who seemed fine, mainly just interested, and looking at Eric with a face that I couldn't necessarily read.

"It's a serious inconvenience," Eric said, "The locals are holding the bar responsible, we're getting a lawyer," Eric seemed amused by this, and looked over at the girl next to me, eyes dancing up her body.

"How does this involve me?" I asked, looking at Abby again.

Abby leaned over whispering, "Why is he staring at me?"

"Because he can," I said aloud.

"Oh," it was a mixture of a response to my statement, and an 'Oh, he can hear me.' Surprisingly enough, she didn't seem embarrassed by it.

"Who is this?" Eric asked.

Abby looked up, "Alex," she answered simply, smiling half-heartedly and pushing some of her hair behind her ear. I tried to hide my surprise at the introduction of her new identity, of course, and just glanced as she nodded, bouncing a little, in greeting.

"I'm surprised you bring a human here, especially after what happened to the last one," Eric said, smiling to himself. I could feel the anger swell in me, but I clenched my jaw and kept quiet. This emotional repression I've taken upon myself in Eric's presence was obvious, I knew, not only to Eric, but to Abby, whose grip on my arm tightened reassuringly.

"He figured he'd just get it out of the way, besides my house is surprisingly close to this place."

"You're his..." Eric searched for the most accurate word, "girlfriend?"

She just shrugged, not answering in the most perfect way possible. The side of her lips perked up into what some would call a smirk, while those blue eyes held a definite spark of slyness—it seemed as if the whole interaction with a 1,000 year old vampire was just a game. She completely disregarded the fact that in the time it took her to snap her fingers he could have pushed me aside and lunged for her flawlessly elegant neck. She was still naïve, despite the change in name.

But she was holding her own. Her personality held with it enough brazen attitude to earn Eric's sympathies. She wasn't dumb enough to push anything, I hoped. It wasn't like she had the same sense of security Sookie had with Eric, there was no way Eric was going to need Abby for anything. She was just a minor faction of my life that has crossed with his own.

Which was a bad idea, of course. Why, I had yet to realize, but anything involving Eric was bound to be bad.

"They're suspecting that I'm letting the vampires get out of hand," he said.

I shrugged, "Under a mile away, you'd think that's something you would see coming."

Eric looked up, "They weren't from the bar. They aren't even sure if it was vampires—the bodies are unrecognizable."

"Ew," Abby breathed next to me.

"Then why are they looking into you?"

Eric leaned back in his chair, legs crossing upon his desk, "There has been an overwhelming anti-vampire movement striking throughout Louisiana."

"Hasn't that been happening since the Revelation?" I joked.

"This time it's getting personal. People without any religious convictions are starting to see us as a… menace to society," he grinned, "which, obviously, comes with a problem."

"The bar is going under a higher level of scrutiny?" Abby asked, "Isn't there some sort of… vampire policing that goes on? Not to be rude," she rushed.

"Of course," I muttered.

She looked at me, "What I'm trying to ask is, aren't there people who talk to humans about these things? A hierarchal system of… government within our own? Shouldn't they have the methods to work with the humans?"

"That's Eric's job," I muttered. "He's a—"

"Sherriff," Eric said, suddenly appearing in front of the two of us, Abby jumped a bit, hand still clenched onto my arm, but she wasn't totally afraid, just startled. "She's catching on."

"I'm a fast learner," she said, smiling a little, and then looking back down.

I stepped a little in front of her, "What do you want?"

"Eyes," he said, "Keep a look out. Especially on Sookie. She refuses to move here, so having you near her could only be beneficial."

"And?"

"We're sending out for a form of legal representation," he said, "There are certain things we need to be sure are kept quiet."

Vials of vampire blood flashed though my mind. Would that man be in some sort of danger? Would Sookie be in some sort of danger?

"We don't know what these humans are capable of, we've learned not to underestimate them, of course." I supposed he was referring to the explosion back in Texas. The beginning of the end, you could say.

"Wait," Abby said, "Humans are pressing charges against you?" She laughed a little, "What would the sentence be for a guilty vampire?"

"I would imagine death," Eric said, "Or something more creative." He turned to me, "I'll meet with you soon."

I nodded, "Okay."

"Keep your eyes peeled," he nodded towards Abby, "Keep her around, too. Sookie would like her."

The fact that he even had an opinion on what Sookie would like make me twinge. Abby's hand slid towards mine, and she tugged on it, "We should be going. It was very nice to meet you…"

"Eric," he said, smirking. She nodded, and started dragging me out the bar, walking in front of me very purposefully, with a new sense of conviction, confidence. I watched her carefully, eyes moving up her legs, before we reached the door, hitting the wet air. She looked at our hands, and, shocked, dropped mine quickly, smiling reassuringly before jogging to the car.

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**Well, I hope you liked it.**

**Please review, as always.**

**New chapter will be up soon enough, I hope. BUG ME if I don't update!!!!!**


	5. Chapter Five

**Hey everyone. I've never updated this much in my life, and I hope you are all happy. If there are any typos/mess-ups, put 'em in your review, and I shall fix them. I hope you adore chapter five!**

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**Reviews:**

**TheNextBestThing36:** Thank you!! I love Bill too. He's my favorite vampire. I'm glad you like the story and hope you are satisfied with this chapter, as it has a hefty amount of Abby/Jess interaction.

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**Chapter Five: **All The Right Moves.

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I was staring at that white line, the one that was running right next to the car. It sped by as we drove, blurring together, and then stopping suddenly as we pulled off the road, into the town. I slid up in my seat, stealing a glance at the man behind the steering wheel.

There shouldn't have been a lump in my throat, but there was. I shook my head quickly as we finally pulled into the front of the house. The car had been pretty quiet ever since we'd gotten inside. I needed to… digest this new information I'd received in the bar.

Eric was engraved in my mind. I shuddered at the thought of him. His eyes were the type that just went right through you, as if you weren't even there. It didn't help that he kept staring at me—that was the creepiest part of the whole encounter.

When the car stopped I unbuckled my seat belt, and Bill's hand grabbed mine, "Hold on."

"Yes?" I asked, turning my head, and feeling suddenly uncomfortable, for a reason I didn't want to delve into, but I was still pointing out all of the reasons in my head. Bill had turned to look at me, right at me, and I was wearing this ridiculous dress, which was still wet from the rain. There was also the fact that he was unfailingly handsome, in a brooding sort of way. He was serious now, looking at with a thoughtful intent that was slowly chipping away at my sanity. He looked so much better than I did, black Henley, brilliant leather jacket. I felt like I was in high school again, sitting next to the cool boy in class and desperately wishing he would lean over just a little further and kiss me—

Not that I wanted Bill to kiss me. I desperately wanted to fix my hair, I could feel it frizzing as I sat in the car, and was itching to run inside and steal some of Jess's clothes. I needed to change, needed to shower, feel clean, get Bill out of my head—all things that were waiting just behind the door.

Bill tugged back my attentions as he spoke, "Jessica cannot know that I took you to see Eric." He looked down, "I shouldn't have taken you in there in the first place."

"Then why did you?" I asked simply.

Our eyes met for a moment, and then he opened the door, "I don't know."

I didn't ask any more questions, just slid out of the car and walked behind him to the house. I was looking down at my feet, trying to make my shoes make as little noise as possible, and finally stepping next to Bill as Jess opened the door, "You made it!" she squealed happily, attacking me with a hug almost immediately. Bill flashed me a small smile before walking inside, making me feel better almost instantly.

"Hey," I said, my arms sliding back around her as she moved away, too slow.

"You ready for the best night of your life?"

"I always am, but first, I need to shower." I grinned, Jess's bubbly attitude was almost infectious. I wondered where we were going. Another vampire club? I hoped not. Hoyt was on the couch, and waved to me as I walked inside.

Up the stairs I went, feet thudding on each step as I ran to my room, stripping off my dress and tossing it onto the bed.

I showered as quickly as I could, trying not to lose track of time while I savored the feeling of the hot water on my skin.

Vampires and lawsuits. I thought Sean was joking, but it really was happening. And now, Bill was being dragged into it, the thought made me scowl. I didn't like seeing Bill get bossed around in such a way. Eric's condescending mannerisms irritated me to no end. Bill just stood there and took it all though, held himself back with such resolve, it was something to be admired. Even when I could tell he was beginning to slip, he would glance at me, face rather stoic for Eric's sake, but eyes reassuring. His voice was even, as well. Mine was quavering all over the place, but his was solid—gorgeous really, but that was just my opinion. I loved Bill's voice, it was smooth, cold, yes, but if you listened close enough, you could hear the edges that were tinged with oh-so delicate warmth. Add this to his articulate style of speech, and you have a voice worth listening to.

I stepped out of the shower, drying myself off, and wrapping the towel around me. Shit. I looked around the bathroom. I forgot to ask Jess for clothes.

I stepped out of the bathroom, into my bedroom, and looked to see if Jess thought to leave anything for me to wear, which she didn't. Of course. I opened my door to call down to her, but before I could speak, Bill was in front of me.

"Do you just wait for me to shower before speaking to me?" I questioned, turning my head to the side and stepping back to partially close the door.

"No," he said, smiling at my joke, "But I did bring these. I'm guessing you would not want to change back into that dress you so despise."

I looked down at the clothes he brought, just jeans and a pretty silver top. Jessica's wardrobe keeps growing, I'm guessing, the longer she's in Bill's presence, I'm sure he closet was really a sight to behold. "Thank you," I said, taking the attire with a grin, "I needed these."

"Jessica and Hoyt are downstairs, entertaining the rest of your party," he said, "I'll see you tomorrow, of course, but I doubt we'll be seeing each other again tonight."

I frowned, "Why not?" Before he answered I spoke for him, "You're not the partying type." I giggled, and let out a small smile that quickly faded.

"No, I'm not," he smirked, "Disappointed?"

I felt my eyes grow large, "N-no, of course I'm not _disappointed_. I j-just… I'm around you all the time, but I know nothing about you. It's always me doing the talking." I smiled a bit more, leaning forward, "As Jessica's former babysitter, I feel it's my duty to get to know her new one."

Bill glanced down for a second, and then I realized I was still wearing my towel, and moved back behind the door more. I felt a fresh blush grace my cheek, and darken as Bill flashed me an aggravatingly attractive half-smile as he laughed, "I would like that."

"Me too," I bit my lip as I grinned, nodding, "Um, I should get dressed now."

"Yes, of course," he said, nodding briskly and stepping back, eyes scanning me before he disappeared downstairs. My tongue grazed my bottom lip, as I quickly shut my door and tried to make my heart beat _just_ a little slower.

Then I desperately ran my hands through my hair, scrunching my eyes together, gritting my teeth until I was in pain—_What was my problem?_

It was like my body was replaced by this new—slightly slutty—version of myself that simply refused to keep in her pants! Every other thought I had was fueled by this _horribly_ fantastic erotic urge that I was surely convinced would push me to the edge. Was I already on the edge? What would the edge _be_ like?

My life, for all this time, had stayed at this one stationary place where everything just fell perfectly into place like some sort suburban fairytale.

I mean, I'd had everything I'd ever wanted. I had landed this fantastic job teaching what I love to some of the greatest kids on the planet. I met and married this great guy—the type of guy little girls stay up dreaming about. I have a great family, a great house, a great life.

But now, all it took was one remote Bill-related thought to start a wildfire in my mind, consuming it completely.

I threw on my shirt, clasping the necklace I wore to the party around my neck.

It's not like I could really _blame_ myself though. It was bound to happen eventually. A crush. I mean, it was comparable to the kind you'd have when you were a kid, innocent at first, and as you aged more and more… _hot_.

It wasn't like as soon as you were married your eyes are closed when it comes to the rest of the male population, and your sex drive sure as hell isn't going anywhere. When was the last time I had sex, anyway?

I couldn't even remember. That's what happens when you're married, and your mind has been full of sexual fantasies.

I finished with my hair and slipped my black heels back on.

It was just a crush, which wasn't against any law. It wasn't really my fault that every time I saw him I felt the urge to tear all of his clothes off, tangle my hands in his hair, trail my mouth up his perfect chest… his neck… _finally_ tasting his lips…

I stopped on the stairs, feeling like I forgot to breathe.

"Abs?" Jess said, walking into my view.

I snapped up, "Hey!" I ran downstairs, "Sorry that took so long."

"No problem," Jess said, "We have all night."

"Where are we going?"

--

The bar was dimly lit, and we were sitting at a booth in the front. The bartender kept stealing wary glances over at us, primarily at Jess, I was guessing. I've never been out in public with a vampire before. It was… interesting. Hoyt kept looking at me, "I'm glad someone else at my table is finally going to eat something."

I laughed, "Well, that's good."

"Yes, eat up! This is only stop _one_ of my birthday extravaganza. After this, we're hitting the mall to buy me presents," Jess smiled, "Then home, for the _real_ party."

I raised my eyebrows, "That doesn't sound very extravagant."

"Liar," Jess snapped, "I'm with the two best people in this entire town," she pointed at both of us playfully, "Not like there's many good ones here anyway. You're an old bat, married 'n all, and you're still one of the hottest chicks here."

"Lemme guess," I said, rolling my eyes, "Second to you?"

She nodded, "In my opinion, you even beat Sookie," she grinned, "that's her, over there. The blonde."

I looked—who _wouldn't_? This was girl who, well in Jess's words, _"Took Bill's heart, pulled it out, twisted it, broke it, stomped on it, put on a tiny band-aid, and put it back in, thinking _that_ would help."_ In all honesty, I wasn't motivated in any historical sense, or really any sense of curiosity, I just wanted to know who it was that was the object of my fantasy's fantasy.

Of course, she was gorgeous. Bill's ex was the _definition_ of bombshell.

I looked back at Jess, "Damn."

"Right?" Jess said, "I can't believe Bill landed her. But now, as we all know, she's dating Eric, moving up in the vampire hierarchy."

I frowned, "I refuse to believe that's her motivation." Suddenly her head turned looking straight at me; an icy stare was aimed in my direction. Ice. My brain flickered back to just a few hours ago, where I was receiving a similar glare for a different reason. Some emotion flashed across her face, and she slowly started to move towards the back, her eyes moving quickly to the others at my table, and finally resting once again on me before tearing themselves away.

"What was that for?"

"Oh," Jess said, leaning forward her voice low and sly, _"She can read minds."_

"She WHAT?!" I yelled, looking back for the girl, who seemed to have effectively disappeared from my view.

"Shut up!" Jess said loudly grabbing my wrist and kicking my leg under the table. I let out a grunt in pain and winced. It really hurt, but it did effectively shut me up. "Sorry," Jess said, "Don't know my own strength."

"She's a mind-reader?" I said, testing out the phrase, it feeling odd coming from my mouth. I looked down at the table in front of me, tracing shapes in the wood grain, trying to focus. Mind-reading humans. Vampires. "Any other supernatural beings I should be aware of?"

"Well," Jess said, "You should really talk to Bill about all that," she shrugged, "He tried telling me once, but—"

"You weren't listening."

"Nope," she said, "But I figured you should know about Sookie. Bill can tell you _loads_ on Eric—that's the man Bill had to meet with today. Eric is fantastic, really knows how to let a vampire have some _fun_," she glanced at Hoyt, "Not how you think. Eric's old."

Eric didn't seem that old to me. Then again, neither does Bill. I suppose that in Jess's eyes, all men seem old in their own way. I would be picky as well if I was stuck in my teens for an eternity.

A red-headed waitress gave us our food, looking at me, "Well honey, eat up. It's some of the best in Louisiana."

"Thank you," I said, smiling at her.

The man behind the bar was looking at us again, and Arlene, the waitress, leaned down, "Oh, don't mind Sam. He's just a little wary of your friend. Hell, he's probably staring at _you_," she laughed, muttering something I couldn't catch, probably a joke at Sam's expense.

I looked back at Jessica as the waitress walked away. "Listen—"

"Don't start getting all serious on me," Jess said, "It's my birthday."

I frowned, "I know." I was just a little peeved by the look that woman gave me. There was no real reason she would be so outwardly angry, shocked, even.

Jess had, inevitably, changed the conversation to herself. I was listening, but only half-way. My mind was racing. I had so many questions… a single one couldn't seem to float to the surface.

I was tempted to tell Jess about Eric, but when I finally found the words to string together a coherent sentence, Bill's voice intruded my head, reminding me to keep quiet.

Why would Jess not want me meeting Eric? He was scary, yes, but Bill wouldn't let anything happen to me, or so I thought.

I had to be serious. Jessica didn't want me face to face with one of the most dangerous vampires in Louisiana simply because he _was_ dangerous. It's not like he would want anything to do with me though, he could have plenty _tastier_ treats, and I'm of no real threat or advantage to him.

Another question.

I sighed, and Jess snapped her fingers in front of my face, "Earth to Abby!"

"Sorry," I said, "I got caught up in…" I didn't finish my sentence, just gestured towards my head.

"Hey Hoyt!" someone said rather loudly.

Jessica at this point, grabbed my hand, "We're leaving."

"We…are?" I asked, looking at her curiously.

She looked at Hoyt, glowering at her boyfriend, "Thought he was _busy_ tonight."

"He was!" Hoyt said.

"Plans fell through," Jason squatted next to our table, "Hello Mrs. Taylor."

"Hi, Jason," I said, eating another fry, and looking out the window. I wanted to get back, to talk to Bill, it was the only thing I wanted to get done tonight, even if it was Jessica's birthday.

Jason slid into the booth next to me, but my gaze was occupied by the window, until Jess said loudly, "Actually, Jason, we should be going."

"Yep," I said, looking at him, "Sorry, but I promised Bill I'd help him sort through his library." Jess looked over at me, raising her eyebrows. I smiled back.

"Really?" he asked, and I nodded. Thank you, Jason, for speeding up this night for me.

"Really, really," Jess said, standing up, "My girl's got an eye for literature." She pulled Jason out of the booth, flicking him away as she pulled me towards her, "Kay, Abs, let's get you back to Bill."

"I thought we were—"Hoyt started, but he was instantly shut up by the glare Jessica was currently giving him.

"Abby, here, is going to see Bill." She steered me towards the door, shoving me outside, and then going back to pay the bill and get Jason off our tails.

I walked towards the car, sitting on the hood. It was dark, really dark. Nighttime usually was, I guess, but tonight just seemed so much darker. Maybe it's because I know there's more to be afraid of at night. Maybe it's because I know _what_ I'm afraid of. Maybe it's because I really don't.

I swallowed, shaking almost as I looked around, hoping that Jess would walk out of the bar and put me at ease.

_But Jess was a vampire, too_.

Ugh! This was so confusing. I was never going to be afraid of Jess, even if she tried to eat me alive; I'd trust her all the way.

Could I say the same about Bill? I wasn't lying earlier; I knew nothing about him. My infatuation was not strong enough to leave me powerless. I knew there was danger, with him, and with the people he associated with. Bill Compton was not going to break me completely, that I had decided. I was not going to let some vampire I barely know make me rethink what I've believed my entire life. That was unreasonable beyond belief.

I was in love with my husband, and getting to know Bill was not going to affect that.

I smiled as my body relaxed with my confident statement. My mind was almost put at ease, and all it took was some decisiveness.

"Abby," Jess said, exiting the bar and walking over next to me, "You okay?"

"Just tired," I said simply, "Mall?"

"Yep!"

I was at the mall with Jessica. It felt just like old times again. I was standing in front of the dressing rooms, collecting the garments Jess would toss back over if they didn't fit, looked weird, or were the wrong color—which was practically every item of clothing in the store.

"Here, you should try this one on," she tossed a dress over the door, "It'd be cute."

I sighed, "I don't need more clothes."

"You _need_ this dress, Abs," she said.

I took the dress from the hand that was wilding flinging it above my head, muttering a, "Fine," before walking into the dressing room next door. Maybe actually doing something will get Bill off our mind. I was trying to piece together some semblance of a past for him. I wanted to do as little question-asking as possible when we met later, so I was currently playing the guessing game.

Inevitably, though, thinking about Bill led to more… intense thoughts, which left me spending my time outside the dressing rooms constantly pulling my faltering mind out of the gutter.

I stepped into a dressing room, taking a look at the dress Jess gave me. It was a dark, charcoal gray, and was short, surprisingly short for something Jess would give me. She used to always tell me that I had no problem getting boys to look at me, so there was nothing to really _sell_ when the product sold itself.

That never made much sense to me, but Jess always said it when we went shopping.

"Are you serious?" I said loudly, the dress falling around my body, ending in the middle of my thigh. The square neck cut relatively low, the sleeves barely long enough to cover my shoulders.

It didn't look _bad_, but I had no clue when I'd wear it.

"It looks _fantastic_," Jess said, poking her head over the wall separating us.

"No too dark? Or too… skimpy?" I asked, spinning around in it once, watching it flow with me.

"Not at all," Jess said, "I love it. I'm buying it for you. Well, Bill's buying it for you."

I shook my head, "That is not necessary."

"You don't believe me?" She asked, "It looks fine."

"I'm not sure," I said, biting my lip, face flushing from how… open I felt. My fingers trailed along the fabric, soft and dark against my pale skin.

Jess chuckled, "We'll put it to the test."

I sighed, changing back into my jeans and shirt, fixing my hair in the mirror before stepping out to collect a pile of clothes.

"Don't put those back!" Jess shrieked, "That's what we're buying," she topped it with m new dress, and guided me towards the front, "Leave the rest. Someone else will get those."

"You're so considerate," I laughed.

She smirked, "You know it."

--

"Oh my lord, Jessica!" I yelled, pulling the bags in through Bill's front door, "You're the superhuman, why can't you carry your own bags?

"It's my birthday," Jess said innocently, smiling as I dropped all the bags.

My fingers hurt, the blood flow constricted from them because of the heft of the bags, "How much did you buy?"

"A lot," she shrugged, "Don't tell Bill."

"I don't think I'll have to," I said, "His car's outside."

She turned around and looked out the window, "Shit, why didn't I see that?"

"You were talking about the cute cashier, _still_," I rolled my eyes, "He wasn't even that cute."

"He was very, very cute," she said, "You're just blind because of that little ring on your finger."

I pulled off my wedding ring, and looked up, "Huh. Still not into him." Jess scoffed. I sighed, almost feeling the need to apologize.

She laughed, grabbing one of the bags and hitting me lightly. I turned around and inspected myself in the glare of the window, hearing the sounds of the rifling through the bags already. It was already time for the "fashion show." My mouth tweaked a smile, and suddenly there was fabric on my head, "try it on again. I'm putting this red one on. We will compare."

I slid the dress off me and turned, "Fine. Be back down in a few." I ran up the steps, kicking off my shoes once I got into my bedroom, changing quickly and slipping the dress over me, opening the door, and…

Screaming.

"What the _fuck,_ Bill?!" I yelled, "Are you trying to give me a heart attack? If you want me dead just bite me and get it the fuck over with already!"

I don't know what made me do that, the yelling. I think it had to be some sort of combination of pent-up sexual tension and the fact that I _hated_ being startled. I also liked yelling; as Bill stared at me like I was some adorable, innocent puppy that ended up biting him, my lips pulled up into a smirk.

"Excuse me," I said, side-stepping him, "Did I scare you?"

He smiled, "Are you all right?"

"I'm feeling a lot better, actually. Thank you." I nodded, "Now, I have to go downstairs, and show off my new dress." I curtsied, and ran down the stairs. When I stopped abruptly at the bottom, the dress blew upwards, "It's almost too flowy."

"Stop complaining about the damn dress," Jess shouted from the living room.

"I think I just flashed Bill my underwear," I muttered, causing both vampires to chuckle. "I hate this place."

"No you _don't_," Jess said, giggling as she walked in behind me, "Tell me, Bill, does she not look fantastic in this dress?"

Bill looked up, after studying what _felt_ like me for the past few moments, and spoke, "Why does it matter what I think?"

"You're male, and thus would prove my point. And I don't want Hoyt telling me my best friend is hot."

I rolled my eyes, "And this is less weird… why?"

Jess snorted, "Must you always act so pessimistic?"

"Shut up."

"No," she said, "Bill?"

"She looks fine."

"I look fine," I said, shrugging, "Fine is fine, but I can't accept this dress! It's way too expensive—"

"How do you know how much it costs, I hid the price tag from you!"

I rolled my eyes, "That's why make receipts, dear."

Jessica frowned, "Bitch."

I walked towards the kitchen, "I'm thirsty, anyone want anything warmed up?"

"B negative," Jess called after me.

"I'll get it myself," Bill said, following me into the kitchen.

Jess ran back into another room to change. I opened the fridge, "What do you think, Bill, beer or coke?"

"I haven't got a preference," he said.

"Oh, funny, funny," I said, grabbing a soda. Caffeine is more important right now, anyway. "How's your night been?"

"Fine," he said, "Yours?"

"It was… fun. I mean, Jess and I had to lie to Jason Stackhouse to get out of Merlotte's before he jumped me," I laughed, "And then spent more than I make in a month at the mall… it was just fun."

"Good," he said, "She bought you the dress?"

I sighed, "_You_ bought me the dress."

"You don't like it."

"I like it," I frowned, "But I'm _not_ accepting it. We're taking it back. I shouldn't even be wearing it now."

"I think you should keep it," he said, and I turned around to look at Bill, who _shockingly_ was right behind me. "Sorry."

"Do I smell good or something?"

"Yes," he answered quickly, and my eyebrows rose as he finished, "And I _really_ think you should keep the dress."

"I thought it was _fine_," I teased.

"It is much more than fine," Bill mused.

My eyes grew wide, "Don't do that."

"What?"

"Mess with me," I was smiling, despite the fact that I was serious.

He smirked, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do," I said, gently pushing him back as the microwave beeped, "And it's working. So unless you want me losing my virtue, _stop messing with me_."

He smiled, "I don't know what you're talking about, because I am just stating facts."

"Facts?"

"You do smell nice, that dress is _ravishing_," he smirked, "and I don't care about your virtue."

"You are a horrible person," a horrible person with the most charming smirk. I spun around and walked towards the stairs.

He laughed, "You don't think that."

"When did you get so damn…?" I couldn't even find the right word, "Annoying?"

"When I first saw you in that dress," he cooed, "I thought that was obvious."

I shivered. I actually shivered. I felt my face go red, "Not really, considering I yelled at you."

Why was I still talking to him? He took a drink of his synthetic blood, "You are also very cute when you're angry." His voice was melodic to the point of almost aggravation. I couldn't concentrate. _That_ was why I was still talking to him.

"Stop that!" I whispered harshly.

He just laughed. Was he high? Vampires can't get high. Can they? No, that's dumb. I was probably dreaming or something, and if I wasn't I looked fucking fantastic.

I turned around, and started walking towards my room, yelling a good night to Jess, and not breathing evenly until I collapsed onto my bed, sliding out of my dress and pulling on the tank-top I left here last time I visited. I slid underneath the covers, sighing to myself and closing my eyes.

I laid there for awhile. The two downstairs made an effort to keep quiet while the human slept, but I couldn't shake this… feeling. I _hated_ that he was still on my mind but he was, and it killed me. He was just downstairs, but it wasn't like I could make myself do anything. It wasn't even Sean I worried about, it was just… the principle of the thing. Cheating. I couldn't do something like that. I couldn't even believe that I actually wanted to have sex with Bill, more that I was trying to make myself not do it.

It was weird. I couldn't let myself admit that I was attracted to him in that way, but I could easily tell myself that doing it was a horrible idea, and that thinking about it was wrong. If I couldn't even admit to myself that I _wanted_ to have sex with Bill, why did I keep telling myself that it was a bad idea?

Well, besides the fact that it was a bad idea, something that I would totally regret.

I groaned, replanting my head on my pillow and wondering why I chose to let myself be alone with my thoughts instead of putting up with Bill's explicit teasing. Not that it was really explicit, he was actually being nice, if I was single, I would have appreciated it.

But I wasn't single, and I found each compliment like a needle, poking against my skin but not causing me any real harm. Yet.

He was just so damn compelling! That voice, that smile, that _body_—

I bit my lip as my hand slid down my stomach, fiddling with the top of my panties before sliding past them, moving just a little bit lower, hand suddenly gaining a mind of its own. The only sound I could hear was the whooshing of air through my lips, which throbbed for contact as my body warmed despite the lack of foreign touch.

Bill. That's what I wanted, the wet spot forming on my underwear made that much obvious, I bit my lip, as I felt the need squirm, my hand flying from myself as I heard a knock at my door..

I sat up, pressing my legs together, which didn't help anything at all. I panicked for a second, before quickly fixing my appearance and letting out a breathy, "Come in."

**--**

**I hope you liked it! And my lil' cliff-hanger.**

**Reviews are FANTASTIC, so take the time to write one. I will seriously appreciate it.**


	6. Chapter Six

**Hey. I'm doing well; school is back and session and yet I am still here with yet another chapter! I'm proud of myself.**

**This chapter is… iffy for me. But I wrote it and am posting it on instinct. I hope it pays off.**

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**  
Reviews:**

**bectoshh.:** Thank you! :)

**TheNextBestThing36:** Thank you!! Sookie frustrates me often, so… I figured she would do the same to Jessica.

**piper1715:** I was wondering where you went! You usually get me every update :) Thanks a lot… and here's some more!

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**Chapter Six:** I Want You To.

**--**

I opened the door, "I didn't think you'd be awake."

"I can't sleep," she said quickly, "I'm not feeling very well." She looked flustered; sweat shined on her forehead, pink faded into her cheeks, her lips were red, plump, full. Her hair was a mess, tousled like crazy. Her body was barely covered by her clothing; just a tank top was visible above the blankets, which showed ample amount of two perfectly curved breasts. I swallowed, realizing that this was one of the reasons I lost some control in the first place. As if I _didn't_ mean the things I said downstairs. That would be a lie. The fact of the matter was, I did rightfully want something I couldn't have. Even when she was so attainable, so enthralled by me to the point where I was actually surprised she showed any interest in me at all.

She had this tendency to act so naïve one moment, and then scholarly the next. It was almost unfathomable, how she managed to cram into her personality so many different facets. Each doorbell you rang, some new and interesting woman came out to play.

At the root of the thing, though, she was the same, kind, clever, nervous, insatiably curious—_married._

Despite this, I was in front of her door, holding it opening halfway, almost deciding to turn around and leave.

Well, I did want to see her again; I enjoyed her company.

And I was apologizing. No matter my own personal wants or feelings, it was out of place for me to have acted so crudely, even if the whole transgression did leave one small fact stuck in my head. She was smiling, throughout the entire thing, even when she knew I was out of line—because I obviously was. It is out of my character to openly flirt with a married woman; I liked to think I was refined. Well, refined for a vampire, considering most of my species treat women like playthings, glamouring them into doing whatever they please, even my sometimes ragged persona is still more sophisticated than that of your average vampire. Her eyes hit mine, "Whaddya' want?"

"I wanted to apologize, for my behavior earlier," She looked a little surprised, "I guess you could say I'm just having a bad day."

"Lemme guess what happened," she said, smiling, "Shortly after we left, say… 'bout an hour, you went to see Eric, ran into your ex-girlfriend who mentioned seeing me along with Jess and Hoyt at Merlotte's."

"You saw her." Of course, if she was dining with Jessica, Sookie might as well had a blinking sign pointing to her at the bar. There was no way Jessica would let that piece of information go without saying, she loved talking about others too much.

"Yup," she said, "She's cute."

I frowned, "She…"

"Heard me," Abby shuddered in an exaggerated fashion, "We should just be happy she didn't walk out about a minute before she did—" she stopped abruptly, and then rushed out, "I mean, Jess and I were having weird conversation. Hoyt was in the bathroom…" She trailed off, "Point is, she probably heard me think about Eric, because that's what Jess started talking about when she arrived."

"Jessica still doesn't know I took you there?"

She shook her head, "No, I almost told, but I decided against it." She smiled sheepishly, hands playing with her blanket. Her legs moved under the covers as she slid herself back against the headboard, crossing her ankles. "She left right after she saw me… Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no," I said, walking in the room a bit more and shutting the door, just in case Jess decided to listen in on my apology. "You didn't do anything wrong. Like I said, I should not have taken you to him." It was a misstep on my part. I didn't even think.

I didn't think that Eric would be impressed by her. Or that Sookie would ever meet her. All I thought was that leaving her out there all alone would be worse than taking her inside. Hearing the slight quiver in her voice just made it practically impossible for me to _not_ take her inside with me.

"No," she said, "It was my fault, really. I was being a wuss. Everything I said in the car is _true_, don't get me wrong. Humans are bred to be careful around vampires nowadays."

"I know," I said, "And you should be. You so easily could have been glamoured or attacked had I not been in there with you. Vampires should not be easily trusted." I looked at her seriously, "They usually turn on those who trust too easily. That's why they campaign as such at your school." I leaned against the door, hand behind my back and still on the doorknob.

Her eyes hadn't wavered away from mine, and she sat on the bed, looking up at me with a solid attention, "I trust you. Should I be afraid of you as well?"

"Probably," I said, "I could kill you, you know."

"So could a lot of people," she said, "Most of my students. Hoyt. Sean. Albeit they with less of a use for my dead body." I looked over at her, she studied her blanket thoughtfully.

"Why do you always feel the need to bring him up?" I asked, almost acidic in my tone.

"To remind myself he exists," she said simply, "Sit down. Let's chat." She pulled her legs up and motioned for me to sit on the bed, "As long as you promise to stay on your best behavior."

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said.

She rolled her eyes, "Listen. If we can't sit down and have a _conversation_, I might as well get up and go home!" We stared each other down for a moment, and I folded, sitting on the side of the bed.

"So, what did you _do_, back when you were human?" she asked.

I raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Why is everything I say so shocking to you?"

"Well, ever since _Alex_ came to be this evening, I've been much more curious about you."

She blushed, "You can ask me a question once you've answered," she smiled, "It's like a game. You've just got to tell the truth."

I smiled, "I was in the war."

"Which war?" She asked, leaning forward a bit, interested. Obviously, math was below her.

"The civil war," I said, rolling my eyes, "I was a soldier."

She blinked, "Really? That must have been horrible, I've only _read_ about the civil war, of course, but none of it has been good. Horrible conditions, medical care, PTSD out the ying-yang," she shook her head, "Actually, the civil war is my second favorite war," I shot her a questioning glance, almost offended that the hell I lived through was amusing to her, "Not that war is some kind of joke, or anything, the… conceptual thought behind the whole thing is fascinating. A country created on the basic rules of freedom, divided because of pure interpretation. It just shows how powerful point of view can be, how evil man can be…" She trailed off, "The South didn't think they were doing anything wrong. The children who fought on the war grew up with it, it was engraved in their minds as right, they couldn't see past the tradition. It's… interesting." She gasped a little, "Where you turned during the war?"

I was a little shocked, "History buff?"

"My _second_ favorite subject," she grinned, "My best friend at school is a social studies teacher."

"What's her name?"

"His name," she said, smirking, "is Mark. So, when were you turned?"

"I…" I looked down, "Shouldn't I be able to ask you a question now?"

She sighed, "You're right. What do you want to know?"

"Do you have any family?"

"Yep," she grinned, "My parents live in Shreveport, well, just my mom. Dad died a while back, heart attack. Sean's parents live in New Orleans. My older brother Roy lives in Ohio, he's married and has two kids. Sean's got a brother and a sister. Both single, though last I heard his sister was engaged."

"I didn't picture you with a brother."

"I didn't picture you in a uniform," she said, "Where you turned during the war?"

"I was trying to find my way back. Lorena—that's the name of the vampire who turned me—tricked me into the whole ordeal."

"What about your family?"

"What's your brother like?"

"Fuck this game," she muttered, "He's… great. I wish he didn't move, but his wife lives in Ohio. They're… fantastic together. It was really meant to be with them, you know? I always knew that Roy would find someone like that, he's probably the greatest guy in the world." She paused for a second, like she was thinking about something, and then spoke again, "When I was seven, he was fourteen; I was playing outside with the neighbor's dog." She pulled the covers off her leg, my eyes immediately flickering to the pair of black underwear she had on, but somehow her eyes tore me away again. She blinked, taking the time to make sure she had my attention, "See this?" she pointed to her left leg, trailing a finger down her thigh, accentuating a long, dark line.

It looked painful, not now, but I couldn't help imagining the line as a long, open wound, blood flowing out freely, covered her white leg in red. I swallowed. She laughed a little, "Don't look so serious. It doesn't hurt or anything," she said, "There's another on my eyebrow, if you can see it, and one more…" she leaned back, lifting up her shirt just enough for me to see the small, dark splotch on her side.

"The dog?"

"Yup," she said, "It hurt. I was screaming, thrashing about like an idiot, which wasn't helping anything of course. Roy heard me yelling from the garage. He came out, tackled the dog," she laughed a little, "And then he picked me up, sat on the porch with me in his arms until the ambulance arrived. Mom kept trying to get him to put me down, there was blood all over his clothes, but he wouldn't budge until he was sure I was safe."

She studied the scar on her leg, "You're not saying anything."

"What am I supposed to say?" I responded.

"Something," she said, "I haven't really talked about that in awhile. Hell, I haven't seen Roy in forever, I just talk to him on the phone."

"You could visit," I said.

"Sean doesn't want to go," she rolled her eyes, "Dislikes Ohio."

"Do you need his permission?"

She laughed, "He thinks I'm at my mom's right now."

I was afraid to find out what else she was lying about. "Maybe you should tell him the truth?"

"That my best friend is a vampire, who lives with a man who was alive during the civil war, and just so happens to be unfailingly handsome that its making me question whether or not I made the right decision in the first place?" She spoke sarcastically, but I felt the retraction coming before she even said it, "Not that I _like_ you, in that way, but I have been wondering if Sean and I were meant to be for awhile. I mean, Roy hates him. That was sign one. And we don't have much in common. And we don't really want the same things. Which overall leads to me divorcing him, but something inside me is telling me that I fell for him for a reason, and that if I leave him I'd regret it. I mean, once you find one flaw, you start picking them out everywhere, ignoring all the good and focusing solely on the bad."

That was true enough, though I had admit I took a different approach. After Sookie and I separated, all I could remember was the good. The bad lied mainly in the fact that she left me for Eric. But Abby was different than me in that respect, she was much more analytical, while my logic was cut and dry, "If you're unsure, wouldn't you regret not taking the chance?"

"That's the point, I'm not sure." She groaned, "I'm supposed to be in _love_ with him, Bill. That's not something you just give up."

"Aren't you supposed to be sure before you get married? I mean, that's how we did it in the olden days." She smiled, and I laughed a little, trying to get her to lighten up.

"I know," she mumbled, "I was way too young to get married."

"How old were you?"

"Twenty-one," she sighed, "Just barely. I turned twenty-four not too long ago, which makes it an official three years of my life in which I've constantly been undecided." I thought she was younger. Well, she had been visiting over the span of a few months. From winter to now, when it's almost summer. A birthday could have flitted in there without my realizing it, especially if it was early, in that part of our relationship in which I wasn't very close to her at all, Jessica would not have bothered to bring it up.

She scooted over in the bed, laying down, and seamlessly changing the subject, "What about your family?"

"I never saw them again after I was changed."

She looked at me, "Why—Oh, right. You mentioned that earlier…"

"Yes, well," I started, but was cut off by another question as she sat up again, moving over next to me.

"If you would have seen her again, your wife, would you have hurt her?"

"Of course not."

"Then why didn't you see her again?"

I let out a short puff of breath. Why didn't I see her again? What kind of question was that? Lorena made it clear that I wasn't to see her. It wasn't going to happen. She wouldn't understand that. "Because it wouldn't have done anything—"

"To know that you were all right?"

"Don't you think I've already thought about this?" I said angrily, and she put her hand on my arm. I was still fuming, but sitting silently.

"Hey," she said, "Calm down." Her smile came back, turned a bit crooked as she said, "I'm sorry."

"You do not have to be," I said.

"I still am. But I did prove a point." Her head rested on my shoulder, and she looked out the window.

"What point?"

"How angry you got—it shows yet another reason as I why I just can't be afraid of you."

I looked over, she leaned on my shoulder, "Why is that?"

"You're sweet," she giggled, "You care about all this," she moved her hands around.

"Why'd you marry Sean?" I asked.

"Because I thought I was in love with him," she said, "Duh." She nudged my shoulder. "He was also very persistent. Wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Wouldn't take no for an answer?" I asked, and she shrugged against me. She was warm, and really soft, her hand rested on mine, thumb tapping to a tune in her head.

"Nope, he followed me around my campus for _days_, just because I wouldn't go out with him, and he didn't even go to my school. He was in town visiting his parents. He's charming though, and is very set on what he wants."

"Well, some find that admirable."

"I do, sometimes," she looked up at me, "I feel like I just… need a break."

We were quiet. I was watching her intently, her pink lips were stuck in a pout, her delicate fingers still on mine. I could practically taste the sweat on her skin, the blood in her veins. She sat innocently next to me, wearing next to nothing, that tank-top was sheer enough to give me a view of the dark fabric covering her breasts. She had abandoned the blanket that was formerly covering her, revealing a pair of perfect legs, slim and strong, leading up to the black cotton that had my constant subconscious attention this entire encounter.

She was thinking, and the look on her face was absolutely adorable, her nose scrunched upwards like she was unsettled. She looked back up at me, those fantastic blue eyes capturing me completely.

Then I spoke, which, if I were under a normal brain, one that was not driven primarily by my growing arousal, would not have happened.

"I want to kiss you," I said, "But I don't think it's a good idea to do so without your permission, since you are so worried about your virtue."

"We've already kissed, remember?" she said, cocking an eyebrow and suddenly jumping into a much more mature guise.

I nodded, leaning closer, enough so that I could feel her breath on my nose. "Your virtue wasn't lost then, correct?"

She smelled like rain, earthy and sweet. I moved my head up for a moment, viewing the scar she mentioned on her eyebrow. I kissed it lightly. She shivered.

"Um," she said, "No, it wasn't," her blood was flying through her veins, but she didn't move as I did, just stayed still, and tried to keep her voice even, "That was also just for Jess's momentary benefit."

"You could do something for yourself once in a while," I suggested, speaking quietly into her ear.

"This," she said, motioning to her and myself on the bed, "Isn't for _you_. I just don't want you to feel guilty." She leaned forward and kissed my cheek, "Okay?"

"Liar," I whispered, lightly grazing her cheek, moving closer to her lips.

She pulled back, "Bill," she said, getting that look she got when she was preparing to make a lengthy rational statement. I didn't answer, just continued my journey, touching her lips lightly, causing her breath to gush out in a jolt.

"You're still not scared?" I mused.

"Nuh-uh," she murmured, leaning forward a bit, breath labored and almost heavy. She took in a deep gulp of air, leaning back more. Her top half was propped up by the pillows, "But I think I'm going to have a heart attack." Her hand covered her eyes.

I smiled, "Why?"

"Stop being a douchebag," she smiled, peeking through her fingers at me. She grabbed my shirt, "This isn't a good idea."

"It's not a _bad_ one," I said. Her husband didn't deserve her, as far as I was concerned.

It wasn't as if I did either.

She looked at me for a moment, "…Damn it," she said, tugging on my shirt, moving up to meet my lips. She fell back against the pillows completely, pulling me back with her. She moaned against my mouth, and I felt myself smile against her lips. My hand rested on her hip, and I spent much of my energy trying to control myself, not wanting to push things too far and lose it completely. My mouth stayed closed, hands stayed stationary. That is, until I felt her tongue drag across my bottom lip, our lips disconnecting just long enough for her to take a breath and then grapple my shocked mouth with a new fervor, egging me on.

Our tongues wrestled, her body moving up slowly to get a better position in front of me. I got quickly annoyed and slid my hand to her thigh, lifting her up onto my lap. She gasped, stunned by the quick movement, but greedily wrapped her arms around my neck, legs settling themselves on either side of me. The heat coming from her was almost overwhelming. My hand stayed glued to her thigh, the other sliding up her side, and back down trying to decide between fiddling with her bra or underwear.

She moaned again, arms disconnecting to allow one hand to latch on my neck, the other to trace down my chest. The pressure inside me was building until I had to break the kiss and quickly turn my head.

"What?" she asked, leaning back a bit, "Too fast?" she giggled.

I shut my mouth and turned to face her, smiling just enough to give her a glance of my fangs.

"Shiiiit," she said, eyes wide and leaning in to get a better look, gawking almost. She reached up, gingerly touching a fang, as if testing it, "Still not scared, by the way," she leaned in and caught my lips, barely even touching them and effectively driving me wild. She leaned back a bit, looking again at my teeth.

"Maybe you should be," I growled, kissing her harshly until she had to pull away from breathe, and then trailed my lips down her neck, paying extra attention to that special spot that was just _one bite_ away. She pushed me back just a bit, kissing me again and pulling off her shirt.

She was gorgeous, like I had anticipated. Her eyes were shining in the dark, playfully beckoning me closer as I cupped one of her breasts over her bra.

"Fuck," she said, whispering, sound both desperate and defeated. She topped her movement and looked at me, face red with tension, lips bright from use, body hot with want, but it was her eyes that mattered. She looked down, seeming almost sad.

"Yes?" I asked, "Are you okay?"

"I fine," she said, "I'm fantastic, I need to go steal a pair of Jess's underwear, but I'm fantastic."

"The problem is?" he asked.

"I can't do this," she sighed, muttering a string of profanity, "I _want_ to, I just keep thinking about my husband, and I don't think that's very fair to you."

"Then we should stop," I said simply, smiling and kissing her once more.

Her lips moved against mine, "I don't want you to leave."

"I won't." I grinned, grabbed my shirt, and she buttoned it back up for me.

I slid to the other side of the bed, she rolling off me and sliding under the covers, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I said, feeling a sense of déjà vu, fangs soon receding. I slid an arm around her, and she moved closer to me, resting against my chest.

We sat in silence for a moment, "Did we just mess all this up?"

"Possibly," I said, "But, it'll be easier to lie to Eric tomorrow."

"You're seeing him again?"

"Yes," I said, closing my eyes, "He wants you to join us. He liked your nerve." My eyebrows rose as I frowned.

She looked up at me, "That's bad, isn't it?"

"Well, yes," I answered, my hand making circles on her stomach.

We were quiet again for a moment, and she said, "Do you want to bite me?"

"I could ask you the same question," I muttered, earning a smile.

"There are things I want to do to you that I'm much too shy to say aloud," she said, "I can't believe I just said _that_ aloud."

I laughed, "Yes."

"Yes, you want to bite me?"

"With my… condition," I almost laughed at the label I'd provided, "Are you really surprised?"

She shook her head, becoming suddenly interested in her nails while asking, "Would it hurt?"

"I would imagine it would at first," I said, trailing kisses down her neck, making her let out a noise that sounded like a whimper, "But I've been told that humans can find it quite pleasurable."

"Hm," she said, lips quivering.

I smirked, "Why?"

"Just curious," she said, turning into my chest, and closing her eyes. I leaned down, languishing in the smell of her hair, my hands running down the silky-smooth feel of her torso as she drifted off to sleep.

--

"What have you been up to all day?" Jessica asked as she found Abby sprawled out on the couch, already dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, the heels she wore to her party last evening still on—apparently Jessica's feet were too big for her to borrow a pair of shoes.

She looked up, "Porn."

Jessica started laughing, "You are disgusting."

"I'm _joking_," she laughed, "Romantic comedies and naps. I finally watched _Love, Actually_. I love British people."

"You are so weird," Jessica said, lifting up her friends head so she could sit on the couch. Abby's head fell back into her lap.

"The day is _so long_," Abby whined, "I had absolutely nothing to do while I waited for you two to wake up."

"How late were you up last night?"

"Too freaking late. I was up chatting with your roommate," she kicked her legs into the air as she sat up, "Did you know he was in the civil war?"

Jessica nodded, "He's right there, you know."

"I know," Abby said, smiling at me from the couch, "I just didn't want you thinking something you shouldn't be thinking."

"Why?"

"Because that's in your nature."

"Is not!" Jessica said defensively.

"When James came over you thought you thought I lost my virginity."

"We were in high school," Jessica said, as if that made this okay.

"He was _twenty_," she snapped.

"You were into him."

Abby rolled her eyes, standing and getting another soda. When she walked back in she said, "You just had a _very_ active imagination."

"I have officially seen enough of you, off with you now," Jessica joked, waving her friend away.

"Actually," Abby said, "Bill offered to take me to the mall to get rid of that dress you bought me." Yet again, I was astounded with her lying capabilities, "Right? And it give you some time alone with Hoyt, so I don't have to hear whatever it is you do while I'm not here. For the sake of my sanity, I've told myself you've been playing Jenga, young lady."

"Uh, yes," I said, "I'm just going to change."

She nodded, and turned back to Jessica as I ran upstairs.

What to wear? I looked in my closet, throwing a jacket on the bed. Dark jeans. Black shirt.

I didn't want to take Abby back to Eric, parade her in front of both of them—especially after last night. Sookie's power is something Abby cannot necessarily escape, and I hoped that she would fare well. I was also hoping she'd give up that dumb lump of a husband, but you can't always get what you want.

Besides, that was selfish of me. I wasn't in _love_ with Abby, I haven't known her long enough for that to happen. Hell, I didn't even know I was in love with Sookie until she was endangered, and yelling at me, two things that I didn't see happening with Abby.

Yelling was a possibility, but not a strong one.

I pulled my arms into the sleeves of my jacket and walked downstairs, seeing Abby waiting for me at the door, black cardigan completing her outfit.

"Hey, we'd better hit it, Hoyt came over and things are getting a little heated," she whispered, knowing I would hear her but not wanting to disturb the other two. I nodded and she opened the door walking outside and shutting the door behind me. We both got in the car, dress in the back seat. I had no intention of her returning that dress, she'd have to come up with a story for that one later.

I started the car, and she grabbed my hand, "Okay, so was I hallucinating again or was last night real?"

"Again?" I asked, looking at her out of the corner of my eye.

She laughed, turning a bit in her seat, "What are we _doing_? I'm married! That's not… good!"

"I don't know," I said, laughing a little.

"I like you," she said.

"I like you as well," I said, "But if you consider last night a mistake, I understand."

She leaned forward, kissing me, "You _feel_ that?"

"Feel what?" Besides, the utter shock at she just kissed me. I smiled. Abby rolled her eyes, thinking me slow for not following her completely.

"That… magnetism," she bit her lip, "That…"

"Spark?"

"That's a bit romantic comedy," she giggled, "But yes. I've never felt that before. I've never felt it like _that_, I mean… I'm too afraid to give that up."

"So," I said, "Let's date."

Her head shot over to me, "What?"

"I understand that you're married, but after listening to you… If you think that this is something worth pursuing, we can always just see what happens."

"I…" she pondered, head tilted to the side, "I don't know. It doesn't seem right. It _feels_ like a good idea, but I know it's wrong."

"I do not want to make you do something you do not want to do," I said slowly, "So, think about it."

I wasn't going to lie to her, I didn't want her to say no. I wanted her, and the only thing standing in my way was a man I'd never even met.

The aspect of seeing Sookie at the bar was something I didn't want to tackle, and I knew that Abby knew that. If we walked in and saw her, she surely would try her best to fill the girlfriend role she created for herself—I just didn't want her doing that only to be found out by Sookie. Abby didn't deserve to have Eric and Sookie breathing down her neck, and if there was anything I could do to prevent that from happening, I would gladly do it.

Unfortunately, just stopping them from their interest in her wasn't going to be easy. The thing was, I was still not really sure why they wanted her.

**--**

**Thoughts? I hope you enjoyed it, and I don't think I'm going to change it, because what I have coming is too good.**

**Are you excited for next chapter? You should be.**

**And the one after that, especially, because it will be amazing.**

**See? I have plans!**

**So, REVIEW, so I'm more motivated!!!!**

**Thank you, and you rock for reading.**


	7. Chapter Seven

**HOLA! Here's chapter seven—a chapter I quite enjoy, and I hope you do as well. It is only getting better. I'm SO psyched about this story.**

**So, here it goes!**

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**Reviews:**

**TheNextBestThing36:** Why, thank you. I'm REALLY glad you like it/feel like swooning after a chapter.

**piper1715:** Yay. And I like them together more, too. Well, I did create it, so that's a little obvious. But still. I think it fits well.

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**Chapter Seven:** Midnight Show.

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Date?

Where is the camera crew that is so obviously following me, because I am either stuck in the middle of some twisted movie plot, or I'm being Punk'd.

That wasn't even funny. My life is way too boring to be a movie, and I'm way too unimportant to be on Ashton Kutcher's radar. Yet, I still felt that my stays in Bon Temps were getting more and more surreal.

It wasn't like I hadn't already thought all about this. I'd been over it way too many times, rethinking through the whole thing would be pointless. Besides, I was already much too busy rethinking the events of last night in as great a detail as I possibly could. I was much too preoccupied with this to actually have the gall to say I was happily married.

I wasn't going to lie to myself. I really wanted to go on a date with Bill. Dating a vampire sounded so… taboo. I was excited, really, so much so that when I got out of the car after we pulled up in front of the red-lit vampire bar I eagerly grabbed Bill's jacket, yanking him forward into a kiss.

By the way, I had made a mental note to suggest making out with a vampire to all of my friends. Over a hundred years of practice _more_ than pays off.

"Hello," Bill said, as I took a step back and resumed breathing, all while smoothing my T-shirt and looking into the window to get a handle on how my hair looked—because I suddenly felt as if I was in complete disarray. I ahem-ed and looked up at him. For some reason I felt it necessary to put up a hand in a supremely lame, one-motion wave. "Are you okay?" he asked, looking at me like I just shouted profanity at the top of my lung. You know, eyebrows high, mouth turned slightly with the smallest hint of a mocking-but-kind smile, but head high like he _almost_ didn't know me but was still worried about my well-being.

I took a breath and then nodded, "Yes. I'm… fine. I didn't think about the whole public thing though," I glanced at the entrance to the bar, where a female vampire (I know they say don't judge a book by its cover, but it's hard not to when that book is covered in a way-too-expensive satin dress and a death glare) was staring at me intensely.

Bill smiled, and grabbed my hand, "Come on, we're late."

"That was a yes, by the way," I said, "To…"

"I inferred," he said, stopping short when the female vampire stepped in front of him. I swallowed.

She looked me up and down, "You blew past me so fast last time I didn't get a chance to ask your friend's name."

"Hi," I said, shoving my free hand into my sweater's pocket. I nodded a greeting, bending at my knees like some lame curtsy, "Abby." Then I felt like slapping myself in the face. Where was the cleverness in creating an alternate persona if I _forget to use the correct name_?

Shit.

"You have an ID?" she asked. I started checking my pockets, before shaking my head. I'd left that at Bill's house with my purse.

"Eric is expecting us," Bill said.

Pam laughed, "I'll bet he is." She shook her head, examining me again, "Where are you finding these women?"

Bill just shook his head, probably thinking himself above a response, and pulling me through the bar. I looked around, taking in the vampires dressed in a swanky, dangerous chic—or at least that's how it's worded on TV. And then there were the humans, some looking normal, some dressed like they belonged in some gothic graphic novel—where they would be drawn so I didn't have to witness them in person. I laughed, until I saw a familiar face.

"Cassandra!?" I said, looking over at the girl, a former student of mine. She was in my advanced drama class, and played Atigone in that year's performance. That wasn't three years ago, maybe two, but not three. She couldn't be twenty-one. But what was she _doing_ here?! She didn't belong here. She was still a kid, she had the rest of her life to go worry about--

She turned, blonde hair flying behind her as her eyes grew about seven times their normal size, "Miss T?"

Why my students continue to call me 'Miss' I shall never know. Maybe it's just habit.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?!" I said loudly, pulling my hand away from Bill's.

He walked over, "We really don't have the time to—"

"Shut up!" I said to him, "Cassandra?"

She turned, "Shut up, you're making everyone look over here," she said, "It's not like I'm too young to be here—"

"You're hanging around in a vampire bar," I snapped, "What the hell were you thinking? You should not be in here anyway, you're way too young—"

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," I said, "Isn't the limit twenty-one?" I asked Bill.

Bill nodded, and I shut my eyes, "You know, you have fun," I grabbed Bill's hand, "I'm—I'm going away now." I was fuming, primarily because I was sad. It sucked, seeing her fall like that. She should be off at college, living her dreams. Not at a Shreveport vampire bar, sipping bloody marys and trying to fuck a vampire.

I grabbed Bill's arm, pulling him towards Eric's office, looking in just in time to turn around quickly and run back out.

"What's wrong?" Bill asked, "If you don't want to go in, I'm not going—"

"I…"

"Abby," he said, "Is everything all right?"

Shit. Shit. Shit. "Sean's in there."

"Who?" he asked, going back to look in, but I grabbed his arm.

"SHHHHH! Don't look!" I whispered harshly, "My… um… _husband_, is in that room."

Bill looked angry, but I really wasn't paying attention. I felt like I couldn't breathe, but I needed to think. I looked around, "Cassandra," I said, "Come on," I dragged her into the bathroom, "I need some of your make-up."

"You do?"

"Yep," I said, "And then I won't call your parents about where you are this evening." She handed my her bag, and I went to applying enough make-up so that I did look like myself, but when combined with Jess's laid-back clothes, I didn't look like the girl from Shreveport. I looked like the one from Bon Temps. If I play my role as Alex effectively, Sean wouldn't even notice me. And if he did… oh well. I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.

Bill was already in the room with Eric, and looked up with relief when I finally walked in, "Sorry," I said, "Bathroom."

Sookie was in the room, and decided to be civil, "Hello, I'm Sookie Stackhouse," she said, walking forward and shaking my hand, "I'm sorry I overreacted when I saw you a few days ago, you must realize my shock that you were with Jessica."

Well, it wasn't as if Jessica belonged to her. Though, in all honestly, I think that she was more surprised by the fact that I was with Bill. I mean… he had it bad for her. But that surprise must have come later. Me being with Jess wasn't really a huge deal, in my opinion. Vampires can have human friends.

But if she actually thought that Bill was too into her still to venture elsewhere, and I assumed she did, that showed a bit of arrogance. Not that Sookie didn't seem nice enough, but you can be a nice person and still have an arrogant side.

This was when I remembered that she could read minds, and felt like slapping myself in the face again.

I looked up at her, her eyes were on Eric, who was discussing something with Bill in a low voice that I'm guessing she could barely hear as well.

I made a point not to look at Sean, which was no easy feat, seeing he was crazy tall, a looming force in the back of the room. He wasn't looking at me though, he was obviously looking at Sookie, who was going to work shortly after we were done here. Her skimpy work outfit kept his complete attention, and made me both angry and relieved.

Okay, if she was listening, I should probably just set her straight. Or should I? Bill said not to let _Eric_ know who I was, he said nothing about his ex-girlfriend. Bill was just being protective though, and I knew he was right, Eric wasn't a friend to me. I didn't want to think he was an enemy either, but I didn't really know _what_ to think.

I felt like the wrong move could send the life I'd carefully fabricated falling to the floor.

Sean was _right there_, and Bill was _right here_.

Yet he seemed so calm, like it didn't matter that my…

What was I doing? Was I cheating on Sean? I haven't had sex with Bill.

I might as well have, I mean… I _wanted_ to.

And, if his current examination of Sookie left any sizeable example, I wasn't the only one not totally obsessed with my spouse.

I looked down; I was rationalizing. I glanced over at Sean, who was wearing his suit, needed a haircut, and was tapping his briefcase annoyingly. He was leaving soon; his mind had already left the building.

Bill realized I was looking at him, and spoke up to Eric, "Obviously, you're legal problems have yet to cease."

I looked up as Eric spoke, "No. And as soon as we find the creatures responsible for these transgressions, there will be no mercy."

I raised my eyebrows, "I'm guessing no _legal_ action will be taken," I laughed a little, and then shut my mouth, "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," Sookie said, "I was thinking the same thing."

I smiled a little, "So. Not that I don't _love_ coming down here, but… I was wondering why it is you wanted to see me."

"I was as well," Bill leaned forward, "I cannot discern any sensible reason."

I smiled. Bill was so fun to listen to sometimes.

Eric spoke, "Well, besides being Bill's new toy—"

"She is not a toy," coincided exactly with, "I am not a toy."

Does he treat Sookie like a toy? I doubt it, she's obviously too important for that, which brought me to my main complaint about Sookie—or at least, the one that Jessica has crudely forced upon me. _Why is it all about her?_ What did she have that was so important, that she currently had the attention of everyone in the room, even me, on a subconscious level?

I didn't know, and I didn't like that.

I was still uneasy, but she spoke for Eric, "We need some help. Eric and Pam run the bar, but vampires running a vampire bar that humans come to doesn't look to good considering the fact that people keep dying around here. We… need a human touch."

I was confused, "Wait. Aren't… you human?"

"Yes!" she said, laughing suddenly, "I mean, one that isn't involved with Eric. A human that can vouch for us, say that we're not doing anything wrong here."

"A witness," Sean spoke for the first time, looking at Bill, not me. I figured this was because Bill seemed incredibly protective in Sean's presence, "They need someone _human_ to say that the bar is fine. I need to leave, so, excuse me, everyone. I will be seeing you again shortly, Mr. Northman."

Eric nodded, and Sean just _walked_ out, glancing at me for just a moment, but not long enough to have an actual reaction at my resemblance to his wife. I mean, me.

'Your bar just let in a kid,' I thought, thinking of Cassandra.

"As long as she doesn't drink, we're good," Sookie laughed.

I smiled, "That's it?"

"Well, is there something else you would like to do?" Eric asked, smirking.

"No," Bill answered for me, "You couldn't have done this over the phone?"

"Well, I wanted to meet your new girlfriend in person," Sookie said, "Sue me."

"I believe that's already happening," I muttered, and Bill laughed quietly.

"We should go," Bill said.

Eric looked up, "She hasn't answered yet."

"I don't think I'm going to do that," I said, "But I'll think about it."

He didn't look too happy about my response, which is probably why Bill whisked me out of the room after a quick apology, saying that he would talk to me, but we did have to leave.

I felt like I was going to pee myself—I'd never been so scared in my entire life. My secret was so close to being totally revealed, it seemed almost… wrong that Sean didn't recognize me. It wasn't like I had a huge reason to be afraid though, I mean, I was currently with a vampire, how much scarier did it get? That vampire was currently gripping my arm tightly, pulling me through the bar as I stumbled behind him. My head was flying around, trying to get a handle on the bar before I left, trying to understand why someone would come here—accidentally locking eyes with a man sitting in the back, who soon arrived next to me.

"This man bothering you, miss?" he asked, grabbing Bill's wrist an effectively stopping him.

I swallowed, "Oh, no, not at all," I said, trying to sound… something. My voice was different.

"Why don't you come along with me?" he asked, head tilting to the side, voice calm, soothing.

"I… I have to go," I said, wanting to look towards the door, but not feeling… able to.

He was kind of cute, blonde, green eyes, "I think you'd rather come with me…"

"I…" I felt like I was falling, from a really, really, high place. There was air all around me, and an unending abyss that I could just sink into, gently float to the ground like a piece of falling paper. I was hooked, every word he said was tinged with sweetness that oozed out of his mouth and into my ears like honey. I felt… safe.

"Leave her _alone_," I heard Bill said vaguely, stepping between us. I shook my head, looking around; we were feet away from the door. I looked at Bill's back as he continued, "Do not touch her." I wrung my hands, trying to get my thoughts straight. I looked over and saw Cassandra, who was currently studying me as I weakly shook myself sane again.

"I didn't," the other vampire said, who I could no longer see, "Touch her."

"Do not _speak_ to her," he said, "And do not glamour her."

I swallowed. A sense of alarm was slowly spreading up my spine, and made me back up until I could find a better sense of balance. The other vampire laughed, "Oh, come on, we're just having a little fun."

"She is mine." I felt my eyes get huge. I stumbled forward, tripping little, grabbing onto the back of Bill's jacket to steady myself, and at the same time clamping down onto my lip until it started bleeding, at which point I kept it in my mouth and _hoped_ no vampire saw it.

Eric exited his office, at which point I grabbed Bill's jacket, "Time to go."

He nodded, looking at the vampire who was no longer speaking, just looking after us in a gloomy fashion, and put me in front of him, guiding me out the door and to his car.

"Are you all right?" was the first thing he asked. I looked at him blankly, once again digesting what happened. "Abby?" He put a hand on my cheek, leaning in and making sure I was all right. Bill had pretty eyes, blue and soft, despite the current stern stance his jaw held.

"What happened?" I asked, swallowing, "I feel weird."

He smiled, leaning back in his seat, "You were glamoured."

"I don't know what that is," I said slowly, shaking my head.

He rolled his eyes, "It's kind of like… a mind control," he said, "the vampire kind of lures you into his head."

I buttoned my sweater up, suddenly feeling a little cold. "Since when am I _yours_?" I joked, glancing over at him as he started the car.

"Since that man tried to whisk you away," he said darkly, "He wanted to feed off of you."

I touched my neck, "Why me? There were tons of humans in there—hell, Cassandra's like _four_, I didn't see him glamouring her."

Bill chuckled, "You are so pleasantly unaware of how attractive you are." I blushed, sliding my hands against my jeans, "It probably didn't help that I was already holding your hand and taking you out of there, it was like a challenge. And, he was newly made, and newer vampires come with a sense of undeserved confidence."

I laughed, "So… the whole possession thing does what, exactly?"

"Makes it known that only I can feed off of you," Bill said simply, and I felt my blush deepen.

"Is it against the law to feed off of another vampire's…"

"Human," Bill finished, "Yes. But some vampires feed off of humans for… recreational purposes, not because they're in relationships—"

"We're in a relationship," I muttered, incredulous.

"So, don't just assume that every human/vampire interaction you see is romantic."

I sagged into my seat, "I can't believe Sean didn't even recognize me." I totally changed the subject, but that thought had been poking the back of my mind like crazy.

"Are you really? After everything you've told me, I don't think it's such a stretch."

I looked over, "Someone's bitter."

"I just do not understand how you could be _married_ to that man," Bill said, "He doesn't seem right for you at all."

"And you do?" I asked, smirking a bit.

"No—"

"No?"

"Stop it," he said, smiling, "You know what I mean."

"I'm going to talk to him when I go back," I said, nodding. "I've decided."

"What brought that on?" he asked.

I looked out onto the road. "It just feels like the right thing to do." And I _really_ liked hearing, 'She is mine,' in reference to myself. It was something I could really get used to—was that weird? Yes. It was.

I didn't understand myself sometimes. Well, I didn't understand myself most of the time. I put much of my thinking into the philosophical side of myself, trying to rationalize and explain my own thoughts and actions in the best way possible, until I find _something_ that makes a lick of sense.

When posed with the question, "Why, oh why, dear Abigail, are you constantly wondering whether you're happy?" I can only discern one appropriate answer. Of course, I'd been asking myself this question numerous times recently and finally feeling its answer culminate as I sat in the car and admitted aloud that being honest with both myself and Sean with actual words from my actual mouth, "Feels like the right thing to do." That answer, though, wasn't in any way simple, but I thought that in some way it had to make some sort of sense. We (humans, vampires, whatever you will) are constantly searching for the chance, the slight possibility, of the smallest, simplest, most basic definition of happiness.

That's what all this is about—being happy.

Now, some of us (take for example, my travelling companion) have more time to find it than others (take for example, me). But in either allotment of time we are given on Earth, we're looking for the same thing, a reason to be happy, to look back on our lives in those final moments before we're sent to rot in the ground (or whatever happens when you die) and _smile_.

I know it sounds like some weirdo-psycho-babble, but I'm not trying to sit behind a desk and offer psychiatric advice for five cents like I'm Lucy from Peanuts—I would charge way more than five cents, anyway.

So, I'm constantly questioning my happiness because I _want_ to be happy.

This brings me to point two in my overly-analytical brain: if I'm questioning whether I'm happy, then the odds are, I'm probably not happy.

It was simple enough, and it makes sense. Yet still, I was… nervous about talking to him—Sean, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was the right thing to do.

It was kind of cool outside, I realized that when I stepped out of the car, and I pulled down the sleeves of my sweater.

"I just don't think it was… _amazing_," Bill said, looking over the car at me.

I shook my head, "It was excellent, and _frustrating_, the two most important aspects of a great book. Not every story has a happy ending," I shut the door, "Not that I don't _adore_ stories with happy endings."

"But," he stopped to let me walk in front of him; Bill was such a gentleman, "_Gone With the Wind_?"

"Yes!" I said, "Why is that so hard to believe!?"

"I just didn't think that'd be one of your favorites."

"It's not my _favorite_," I said, "My favorite is…"I bit my lip, leaning against the railing in front of his house and tapping my foot as I thought, "It's a tie."

"Of course it is. Between whom?"

"Hm," I said, "_Great Expectations_… _1984_… Oh! _To Kill a Mockingbird_—NO! _Girl, Interrupted_ was fantastic. And there's _Pride & Predjudice_," I looked at Bill, who was looking back at me with an eyebrow that was reaching to touch the sky, "Okay, fine. Great Expectations. My favorite book of _all time_. What about you, Mr. Compton?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," he said, completely serious.

I started laughing, "Are you joking?!"

"Nope," he said, "I loved that book."

"Favorite poet?" I asked, twirling on the stairs and walking inside.

"That one," Bill said, "Actually _is_ a tie."

"Between?" I asked, throwing my bag back on the couch and walking back towards the kitchen, him close behind.

"Langston Hughes," he started, and I interjected with my approval before he continued, "And… Emily Dickinson. She was crazy, but she was good."

"Oh my gosh!" I said turning quickly in front of the fridge, eagerly grabbing onto Bill's arms as he leaned forward to steady me, "My two favorites are Edgar Allen Poe—I've been in love with "The Raven" since I was ten, and…" I paused for dramatic effect, "Emily Dickinson," I grinned, "I _love_ her." I squeezed his arms.

"You sure you want some caffeine?" he asked, reaching past me to open the fridge and grab a bottle of Tru Blood.

"Yes," I said, grabbing a coke, "Caffeine is a necessity when you're human, my dear vampire friend."

He smiled, "You're in a good mood."

"I am," I said, "I don't really know why, considering your ex-girlfriend wants me to testify on her behalf, and we just ran into my ex-husband—I didn't just say that," I shook my head, "Wow. I'm losing it."

"And you were glamoured," Bill said, effectively skipping over my faux-pas with nothing but a noticeable smirk, "You are probably just disoriented, especially because you remember it; that makes it worse," he leaned forward and pointed to make his point.

"Gimme," I said, grabbing his Tru Blood and heading for the microwave, "Settings, m'dear?"

"Three minutes," he said, "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," I said, "Jess and Hoyt here or _out_?" I looked around, listening for the creak of excited feet rumbling around upstairs.

"Here," he said, "Not sure what they're up to."

"Me neither," I said, setting the microwave and turning back to face him, "What type of _music_ do you listen to? I've noticed our car rides have been primarily filled with conversation."

"Various artists," he said, shrugging.

"Soundtracks?" I teased, "What, you listen to Hairspray on your way to Fangtasia?"

"Not funny," he said, "I just listen to… a lot."

"I picture you as a… classical kind of guy. Maybe with some weirdo cultural stuff thrown in—my dad was like that. Not classical, that was me after I turned… like… fifteen and heard Chopin in my music appreciation class," I shrugged, "But my dad listened to some weird stuff. He was this really big history buff, and got really into world music. He listened to everything from like, African tribal music to, like… that weird Chinese string instrument that sounds all… whiny… Ehrd?"

"Ehru," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Yes!" I said, "That was weird."

He laughed, "So, you enjoy classical music?"

"Well, I also have a wide variety of musical tastes," I said, "I like pretty much everything."

He nodded, "That doesn't surprise me."

The microwave beeped, and I handed him his drink, "Oh, this is warm."

"That tends to happen when you put something in the microwave," he smiled.

"Snarky," I chastised, "Is that… good?"

"Why do you ask?" he looked at me curiously, "Do you want some?"

"Ew. No," I said, shaking my head, "I just imagine it'd be like living on tofu."

"Do you like tofu?" he asked.

I shrugged, "Sometimes. But why eat tofu when you can go buy a cheeseburger for a buck?"

"Healthier," he said.

"True," I said, leaning against the counter, "But I guess that's why you're the vampire, and I'm the human with no real self-control."

"I wouldn't say you have _no_ control," he said, laughing at me quietly. I frowned.

"Eh," I said, biting my lip, and then remembering that I accidentally bit it too hard earlier, "Ow."

"Hm?" Bill asked, watching me as I raised a hand to my lip, touching it, and pulling back to see blood.

"Ugh," I said, and then looked at him, "Oh, but I bet you enjoy this don't you?"

"You're such a tease," he said.

I giggled, "A _tease_? Ooh la la," I licked my lip once, watching him watch me with a serious concentration I had never witnessed before, "This is seriously driving you a little mad, isn't it?"

His eyes flickered up to mine, and he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine, slowly dragging his tongue against my bottom lip, causing my entire body to almost convulse with buzzing excitement. But, I kept myself under control, my body deflating as he finished.

I pulled back a bit, blushing immensely, "That's a yes."

"Nice inference," he smirked.

I swallowed. "So… cheeseburger?"

He shrugged, "In your scenario, yes."

I blinked, "Interesting."

We sat there for a moment, me sipping my Coca Cola, he his synthetic blood.

"If we move to the couch, and, like, watch TV, is it going to be awkward?"

"Only if you make it that way," he said, getting up and walking past me. I scowled as he walked, and then ran after him after he called, "Are you coming?"

"I'm here," I said, emerging from the other room, "What's on?"

"The news," he said, "And… nothing."

"Wow," I said, looking as he quickly flipped through the guide, "You're right."

I yawned. Bill turned a bit, pulling me between his legs and allowing me to rest my head on his chest—which I _did_, but with a substantial amount of red gracing my cheeks. "If Jessica comes downstairs, she's just going to get crude and scathing," I muttered.

"I'll hear her," he said, "She's very loud."

"You're surprisingly comfortable," I observed while looking around the room, taking in the cracked paint on the walls and the smell of dust—which I had, _also_ surprisingly, grown accustomed to, "I mean—well, you know what I mean."

"Sure," he said, chuckling a little.

I felt nervous. And hot. It was like I was drunk; warmth was slowly spreading through my body, making me bite my lip again and cross my arms to try to regain my confidence. I was so dumb, sitting here like a moron trying to keep my heart rate down and my body temperature from rising.

Here's the thing, though: it's CRAZY hard to keep your body temperature down, even if you're laying on the couch with a vampire. And the heart rate thing? I might as well have been trying to stop a speeding train.

The thought of that made me giggle—I mean, picturing me running next to a train, yelling at it to stop. The noise made Bill look at me curiously.

I smiled, and went back to looking at the television. A reporter was currently interviewing a schoolteacher on the importance of new taxes to benefit education. I stopped paying attention—I didn't really care. I know, I know that I should care, but I talk about that almost every day, I don't need someone telling me what I already knew. I was just happy to have the noise in the background to pull my head away from my thoughts—all centered around the most random of subjects.

I could see a cat in the shadows on the wall. I decided to name it Shay—I'm not sure why, I didn't even really like that name. I did like Bill's hand on my arm, cold, but comforting. It was weird to think that so many people would want to be with a vampire just because they were a vampire.

Here I was, with a vampire, but it didn't really feel any different. I didn't really _care_ what he was; he was just a little cooler than your average man.

The lights on the TV changed, and my cat was gone.

"Was it really sucky? Seeing _her_ there this evening?" I asked.

His head rolled to the other side, resting against the couch and looking down at me. I turned a bit to get a better view as he said, "Why?"

I rolled my eyes, "Why do you always ask that?"

He didn't answer right away, probably because he realized my answer was really just a deflection of his question. I never really knew what it was like, having an ex-something that you were once in love with. My exes were all just… boyfriends who didn't really matter—which is why we were no longer together. My life lacked messy break-ups.

"Because you always ask odd questions," he observed.

"So?" I prodded, looking back at the TV, "What's it like?"

"I wouldn't use the same term you did," he said, "But it's not necessarily enjoyable."

I nodded, "That blows."

"It could have been worse," he said, hand still on my arm, breath coming out on my hair… My lips were still tingling from that last kiss; the thought of it made my toes curl.

"Oh, fuck it," I muttered, sliding up and crashing my lips against his, my hand wrapping up around his neck. His hands moved to my waist, helping me as I spun to face him.

"Charming," he muttered, smiling into the kiss and lifting me up closer to him.

I wrenched my arms out of my sweater, tossing it somewhere, simultaneously disconnecting my mouth to breathe before Bill yanked me back towards him. I slid my hands into his hair, as Bill started unbuttoning my jeans and sliding them down my thighs. I disconnected our lips and allowed him to travel down my neck, my head barely being able to stand up straight as my breath dragged in and out of me in slow, breathy huffs.

I felt his hands travel lower, and lower, wrapping around my thighs and picking me up to throw me back against the other side of the couch. I let out a gasp, sliding down and connecting with his lips again, feeling his fangs as my tongue slipped inside his mouth.

I shuddered. He slipped my jeans off the rest of the way, following quickly with my underwear. I was whimpering against him, removing his shirt, as his hand slid down and touched the small bundle of nerves at my core. I gasped again, this time loud enough that Bill's mouth had to silence me. He worked me for a while, long enough that soon I was twisting with need. I slid myself down, narrowing my eyes as I disconnected our mouths, looking at him with purpose a I unbottoned his pants.

He smirked, sliding inside of me so quickly that I didn't even think to try to keep myself quiet. Luckily, he did, kissing me once again.

I didn't know what to think. I had thoughts floating through my head, but I wasn't really thinking, I was just observing, trying to make sure I didn't make too much noise and blow our cover—the _last_ thing I needed was Jess walking downstairs and seeing me in such a compromising position.

I kept rising, becoming more and more enthralled with _this_ that I couldn't even try to piece actual sentences together in my head. Bill had finally let my lips free, and I was breathing much more easily, and I looked up at him, my hand sliding down from his neck to his cheek, his attention already directly on me, as if I was the only girl in the world. Suddenly I felt a little embarrassed again, and could feel the blood rush up to my cheeks, as I finally got out, "Go ahead."

He looked at me curiously. I rolled my eyes, "I _know_ you want to," I muttered, letting out a sharp moan as he hit _just_ the right spot, "Please, do it." I shut my eyes, as his lips grazed my neck quickly, before I felt an acute pain in its side. I bit my lip hard, and let out a soft moan as I felt his tongue lick the wound in my neck, his lips suck at it, until I could barely control myself anymore, and was soon hit with a violent release, like my entire body was in a momentary freefall, and I was left breathing heavily. My body was coated in a sheen of sweat that shimmered as I moved in the moonlight peaking in through the window. Bill fell down next to me, lips still cleaning up the blood from my neck. It was surprising how large a couch could be when it needed to be large.

It felt like seconds, but as I glanced at the television, it seemed we'd been at it for the rest of the news and then some—I still wasn't sure how long that was.

I didn't want to move. My entire body was throbbing; I could feel my heartbeat in my fingertips.

I pulled my shirt down, covering much of me, while still trying to get my head straight. When Bill was finished, and my neck was deemed clean he sat up, suddenly vanished, and appeared next to me on the floor, buttoning his shirt.

I blinked, "Hi."

"Hi," he said, turning and kissing me. I could taste the coppery taste of my blood in his mouth. I didn't really know what to think of it. It wasn't as if I'd never tasted blood before—when you cut your finger, the first thing you do is shove it in your mouth. "How are you feeling?"

"Like laying here forever," I smiled, "But I don't think that would work." I sat up, shaking my head slowly, and grabbing my pants.

I pulled on my clothes, taking a deep breath and standing up, "What are you looking at?"

"You," he said, standing and sliding his arms around me.

I rolled my eyes, "Corny," I turned and kissed him again, "Escort me to the kitchen?"

"Of course," he said.

**--**

**Well, that's all for now. I'm starting chapter two as SOON as I post this, I have too many ideas, and much too little time.**

**Love it? Like it? Hate it? I don't care which it is, just let me know, and…**

_**Review!!!**_

**Please and thank you. :)**


	8. Chapter Eight

**Hey everyone, sorry for the long wait. School has been quite hectic, and these past few weekends have been filled with speech meets and a trip to Chicago, so I had little time to polish up this chapter. But, the good news is, I DO know where this story is going, and what next chapter will entail. I actually almost ran out of stuff to type this time around, Geez. BUT, next chap will be up soon, I hope, and this story will keep up its fantasticness.**

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**Chapter Eight: **Clarity.

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Abby's house was quaint, as one would expect. It was the yellow one on the end of the road, smaller than the rest of the homes on the block. There was an astounding amount of green outside, flowery bushes dotted the front of her house, and she walked off of the short cobbled path to the entrance to check on a slightly drooping red blossom, frowning a little before glancing at the rest and then walking up to the dark brown front door. "Just a sec," she said, rummaging through her bag and pulling out the keys, "It doesn't feel like two in the morning," she muttered.

"It does," I said matter-of-factly, clasping my fingers around her hand as it slid into mine. It was almost hard to believe, how badly I still wanted to kiss her, especially now that we were alone, free of all interruption or surprise. But I was smarter than my libido, and knew that in her current state the last thing she needed was a lustful vampire breathing down her neck.

She rolled her eyes, "Haha," and pulled me into her house, "Like it?"

She had her blue dress back on, which in its dried state hung a little large on her body, the sleeve falling down every now and then, which I felt the need to correct every time. She finally slid an arm out of a strap, and I followed her to the back of her house, trying to occupy my mind as I did so by surveying my surroundings.

It felt like she lived here. Not only in the more obvious things, the lingering smell of coffee and roses, for example. A vase of the flowers were sitting on a table in the front. They were drooping, the sides browning and curling from age. The floors were a smooth wood, dark and contrasting to the walls of the house, which were all differentiating colors of pastels. Obviously, Abby did the decorating.

There were pictures covering the walls, like a photo-by-photo documentary of their lives. A couple pictures were of her and her husband, one I assumed was from when they first met. He had an arm slid around her waist, she was yelling something, mouth stitched up into a smile; he was behind her, laughing. There was another of her with another man—whom I guessed was her brother. I heard a thud, and looked back over. Her head popped out from behind a door, and she stepped out, pulling a pair of shorts up and unfurling a T-shirt to pull on, the black bra from earlier making yet another appearance. I could feel my lips pull into a smirk.

"It's nice," I answered finally, in reference to her home.

"I like it too," she shrugged, finding the bottom of her shirt and walking over, pulling it on. She shook out her hair, combing through it with her fingers.

I glanced back at the picture, "Shouldn't Sean be back soon?"

She shook her head, "Saturday's vampire night. He won't be back until dawn." She didn't seem all too hung-up on that fact, her eyes studying me with an expression I couldn't rightly recognize. She brought her arms up in front of her chest, crossing them almost as if she was nervous.

Her head turned, looking at the mirror hung on the wall, turning her neck and biting her lip. "What am I going to do about these?" she glanced over at me nervously, lightly fingering the two cuts on her neck. I walked up behind her, moving back her hair and examining the two spots, lips moving down and touching them lightly. She grinned, turning and catching my lips quickly.

"I think they are very becoming," I smirked, earning a roll of her wide, blue eyes.

"They would be if this were under different circumstances," she said, pulling me towards her and kissing me again, "But," she parted us quickly, "It's already going to be so difficult to muster my own courageous impulse in order to… do what I have to do. Having Sean attack me because of some marks on my neck," she bit her lip, "that would be hard to handle." She leaned against me, shaking her head against my chest, "I'm such a _teenager_ sometimes," she muttered, "I need more adult friends. I mean, I act as if I can't even handle a little argument."

"I understand," I said, "And I don't think you're a _teenager_," I laughed a little.

"Probably because that would mean you're into pedophilia," she joked, "I mean… I don't think that I'm not _strong_ or whatever. I usually am. It's just hard to say no to Sean. I _loved_ him, after all. I mean," she glanced up, "I couldn't imagine leaving you, and we just met a few months ago!" her voice rang out, like she just released a huge pent-up feeling she'd had this entire time.

She had it in her head that she was some horrible person. I found that hilarious, really. If anyone here was remotely horrible, it would be me. Somehow she refused to further scrutinize me for what I truly was, instead took her solace in this brilliant romanticized version of my life—of Jessica's life. I was too afraid of what she would think if I told her any part of the truth. If I told her that I was responsible for Jessica's condition? If I had mentioned that as a vampire I had done things much worse than adultery, sins that I couldn't imagine her committing.

And the idea that she wasn't strong? That was ridiculous—the fact that she was even standing with me showed at least some scrap of confidence, correct? I wouldn't be here if she didn't think it fitting to come with Jessica the night they met.

And the night we met, she didn't seem too excessively appalled at my entrance into her life. Then again, she probably figured that that was as close as the two of us were ever going to be. But here we were; pressed against each other in the hallway of her real home, her head seeking comfort on my, of all, shoulders.

I felt her sigh heavily against my chest. She pushed away from me, scrunching her eyes shut for a moment, and then pulling me towards the brown couch in her living room and sat. She pulled me down next to her, and leaned against me again, still touching the wounds on her neck, "How am I going to do it? I've never really thought about what I was going to say… only what would happen afterwards," She smiled a bit, "But I doubt Sean would be very interested in _that_."

"No, I don't think so," I said, taking hold of her chin and examining the marks I had left, "I apologize for this."

"Don't," she said, kissing my cheek while keeping her head turned, "It's not like there's anything that can be done about it. Besides," the side of her mouth flickered upwards, "If I were faced with the situation all over again, I would most definitely make the same decision." She giggled, her shoulders bouncing as she tried to still keep her head still, like it was a challenge.

Then I got an idea. I brought my wrist to my mouth, fangs sliding out to dig into my skin. She gasped, "What the hell are you doing?!?" She yelled, reaching for my hand, but I was faster.

I laughed a little, "It doesn't _hurt_. Here, drink a bit."

"Ew," she said, shaking her head, "No. I'm the _human_, remember?" Her words came out slowly, dripping from her lips like honey. She was tired, but despite this her eyes were still lit with interest as she examined my wrist.

I moved closer to her, "I know that. But, it will help you heal quickly. Trust me."

She looked at me warily, her eyes sliding to my wrists and then up to my eyes, "…Fine."

It wasn't long until she was pulling herself back from me, "Shiiiiiit."

"What?" I asked.

She blinked, "What… what did I just _do_?" She shook her head, "This feels oddly illegal," her lips turned up into a grin, "And… _fantastic_."

I laughed, "Feel your neck."

Her hand flew up, feeling around for the two tiny holes, and when she did not discover them looked over at me with wide eyes, "They're gone."

I smiled, "Yes."

"I… I didn't know you could do that. I didn't know _anything_ could do that. I…" She closed her eyes, "I can't think. Well, I _can_, but it's…" her eyes opened, "I feel better."

"Good," I said, "You should probably know that there are some side effects to vampire blood."

"Well, so far it feels like this _is_ a bit too good to be true. So, why wouldn't there be?" she mused, "But first," she and pressed her lips to mine, engaging me in a surprisingly long kiss.

"The first of which," I said, after she hesitantly pulled away, chest swelling with a large intake of air as I finished, "would be an increased libido."

"Sounds fun," she smiled, laughing a bit as she pulled her legs onto the couch, sitting cross-legged facing me, hands hooked onto my shirt.

I laughed, "I would imagine so. Next would be… you'd find yourself attracted to me—" I smirked, but she cut me off.

"I already find myself attracted to you—oh," she smiled, "you were trying to make a joke, weren't you?"

I was, but I let it slide, "I… will also be able to feel you."

"…I'm pretty sure we've already covered that, Bill," she said slowly, face held together in a serious fashion, only cracking in the second of silence after she spoke.

"That is not what I mean," I said, laugh, "I will be able to know where you are, at a moment's notice."

She tilted her head, "That sounds like it would be cooler if I were more rebellious."

I nodded, "Well, that's a good thing. But I guess it could come in handy eventually."

"Cool," she smiled. Why she didn't seemed perturbed by this new information in the slightest. In all honesty, it was becoming more and more surprising, how fine she was with every piece of information I threw at her. It was like she enjoyed it.

The most tragic part of that thought was that she probably _shouldn't_ enjoy it at all. After all, who was I to impose myself upon her? She was _supposed_ to be afraid of me.

I guess it was a little naïve of me, in all honesty, to at this point think that Abby was _supposed_ to be anything. Almost every assumption I'd made of her had been twisted into the wrong.

Shouldn't I be more… conflicted about my own stake in this? She was breaking off part of her life, dissecting a part of it out of her, and I couldn't help but to think that I was partially to blame.

She, once again, didn't really seem to care though.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked, studying me intensely.

I looked over, "Why?"

She shrugged, stretching out a hand to smooth my collar, "Why don't you just answer me for once, and not always ask me why?" She smirked.

"I'm thinking about you."

She rolled her eyes, "Boring." She slid forward, kissing me again, but I pushed her away; it was almost dawn.

"I should get going," I said, "Remind me of this little attitude you get the next time you're complaining about _bite marks_." I smiled, and she hit me.

"You're the one who decided to offer up the…" she searched for the right word, "Blood."

"I guess that is true."

"It's not _my_ fault it makes me unnecessarily… energized. But it's not like I'm going to take you here on my husband's couch. I have morals, Bill."

"Do you?" I questioned.

She smirked, "Come on," she yawned again, shaking her head, "I… I don't want you to go _just_ yet. I have… I have this feeling that as soon as you leave I'm going to…"

She pulled me back against the couch, falling against me as I lifted up an arm and laid it around her shoulders. It was natural, like something we'd been doing for years—not days.

Things were moving fast. It was hard to believe that we'd known each other for months, but we'd only seen each other for mere days—was it even possible for two people to be so brutally thrown together in that short amount of time? The idea of it seemed… fictional at best. Brutal sounds like the wrong word, doesn't it? You would not expect it in the grand scheme of things, calling something so tender, so comfortable such a brash word as "brutal". But that was what it was, wasn't it? Brutal. It was brutal that we had met now, after she had spent so much time building up a life of her own. It was brutal that we had met solely because I was forced to take Jessica's life away. It was brutal that my happiness—and what I hoped to think as her happiness—rested in the fact that we had to steal away the happiness of another.

Was it really brutal, what we were doing to Sean? I wasn't sure, and didn't want to be.

She wasn't either; you could see it in her hesitation. But, despite this, here I was, because nothing really seemed to bother her _too_ deeply.

Abby fell asleep. Her breathing next to me slowed, and I glanced at the clock on her wall. I slid out from beneath her, helping her slide against the back of the couch and rest against the side, not being able to stop myself from placing a small kiss on her cheek.

I pulled my jacket back on, flipping off a light and walking towards the door—feeling suddenly uncomfortable when Abby was no longer awake.

I walked outside, running a hand through my hair as I locked her door, shutting it behind me.

"Damn it," I muttered, stepping down from the door and onto that tiny cobbled walkway. I was still confused, for some reason I couldn't really place. It was like I was in some foreign territory. She was so different than Sookie—_so different._ What I mean to say is, Sookie was much more… blonde. Not to say being blonde was anything bad, Sookie was just so much more… bubbly, virulent. Abby had this quality about her, where my time with her wasn't all consumed with too-serious matters, and wasn't just… vacant.

Truth was: Sookie and I just had a lot of sex.

Not that I didn't want to have a lot of sex with Abby—

I shook my head; I was beginning to sound like her, constantly retracting my statements. Abby was just a more serious person, with a darker sense of humor that was refreshing to someone in my particular lifestyle.

I grabbed my keys, unlocking the door as a familiar truck swerved into view.

"Where the _hell_ have you been mister?!" Jessica yelled, jumping out of Hoyt's truck and running up to meet me. Her eyes got huge, and her head swiveled back and forth from me to the house behind me, "Oh my _god_."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, opening my car door. She reached ahead of me and shoved it closed.

Her head shook back and forth, "You didn't."

"I didn't," I obliged, reaching for my door.

She batted my hand away, "You are a slut. A Manslut."

"That isn't a word," I said, rolling my eyes, sighing heavily. Not only was I heavily ashamed at Jessica's terminology, because one would think that after living with me for so long the word 'Manslut' would be void from her vocabulary, but I also felt embarrassed for her assumption, even though it was… correct.

"Whore!" she yelled, "That _is_ a word," she smiled, despite the angry tone.

I shut my eyes for a second, placing a finger on my temple as I leaned against my car, "Jessica—"

"Oh my god you actually _did_," she said, her face scrunching up like she smelled something bad, "You know, her husband lives there—"

"Even if we _were_ to do that," I started, turning to face her, "Do you really think I lack such an amount of intelligence—"

"You obviously _lack_ enough to do that," she laughed, still smiling for a reason way beyond my comprehension, "I mean, I love Abby, and under any other string of circumstances I would think that this," she frantically motioned to me and the house, "Would be fantastic—I mean you guys are really cute together—"

I quirked an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Shut up," she said, "This is bad, Bill. You did something irresponsible."

I shook my head, "I—"

"No!" she said loudly, "You really fucked up. You're supposed to have the self-control. She's just a human, she doesn't _know_ any better," she grinned, "And she's obviously _so_ into you. I mean she _says_ I don't know her very well, but I do, and the way she looked at you when you walked into the room that day when we were playing Rock Band—that was some serious Kodak Moment material." She giggled, and then remembered she was trying to be serious, "But you took advantage of all of that repressed sexual tension between the two of you, and ruined her reputation as a decent human being. That is so selfish, Bill!"

I blinked.

"Oh my god," she said, "Do you seriously have nothing to say to any of that?!"

"Well, it _was_ her idea." After the words left my mouth I felt that I should almost cringe in anticipation of her backlash.

"It was _her_ idea?!" she said, laughing, "THAT is your answer?!"

"We need to leave," I said, opening the door.

"Wait," she said, "Car."

We both looked up, and a slick silver automobile slid up into the driveway, a stumbling Sean making his way out of the car.

Jessica and I exchanged glances, "Okay, you were right, we need to go."

I laughed, and the noise caught the man's attention. His head snapped up like he may be suffering from whiplash, eyebrows coming together in confusion.

Shit.

"Hey!" he called after me, and I turned back to face him.

He walked over, leaning on the mailbox. He was tall, taller than me, as well as thinner and sweatier. This was probably due to his slightly impaired state—oh the irony of a lawyer disobeying the law. He carried with him, strapped onto his back so it was always there, yet just out of sight, this omnipresent sense of propriety. It was nauseating.

And the fact that they were together was the worst of it. It did not hit me until just that moment, as Sean opened his mouth to speak, "What the hell are you doing at my house?" Her mouth thrust against his, her hands tangled into his hair, his tongue sliding down her neck—

"Bill," Jessica said, tugging on my sleeve, "C'mon."

"I saw you at the bar," Sean said, looking back towards the house, "With… your girlfriend."

I leaned back against the car, "What bar?"

"That vampire bar," Sean said. His arm around her waist, free hand unhooking that black bra, sliding forward and grabbing a breast, she emits a low moan, mouth falling open for him to recapture—

Jessica hit my arm, "Bill."

"Fangtasia?" Bill asked, "That's the only one 'round here, I believe."

"Bill, what are you doing?" Jessica asked, and then ran in front of me, "_You took Abby to Fangtasia."_

Never in my life had I had any reason to be afraid of Jessica, but then I felt a little twinge at my spine. It would have impacted me farther if I hadn't felt the need to push her aside.

"That was her," Sean said, "I… I didn't believe it."

I wish life worked like my Wii Golf game. I could just turn it off without saving and start all over. But, it doesn't work that way. When you are caught up in the moment with something, moving just on your emotions the world seems to just spin by and you don't really care what you do or how you do it.

"Eric has met Abby?" Jessica said, "Is your existence only necessary because my life needs something to fuck it over?"

Sean walked over, "What the _hell_ are you doing with her?"

"I am sorry," I said to Jessica, "She insisted."

"How hard is it to say, 'No,' Bill?!" She yelled, "It's really not that difficult!"

"It is with her," I mumbled, suddenly ducking out of the way as Abby's husband launched a fist in my direction.

I grabbed Sean's arm and pulled him up before he hit the ground, only to be thanked with yet another punch. "I would not do that if I were you."

"Fuck you," Sean said, standing, "_Fuck you!_" He yelled, pushing me back a little, "Stay the fuck away from my—"

"Jessica, get in the car," I said.

"What the fuck were you doing with my wife you blood-sucking—"

"Listen to me," Jessica said lowly, stepping in front him, "Back off or I'll--"

"Blow me," Sean said, "Now run your pretty lil' ass out of here and let the big boys talk—"

Jessica's mouth twitched, and her eyes narrowed, lips curling into a grin, fangs peaking out of the home in her canines. I moved quickly, pinning her back behind the car while simultaneously yelling out orders not to drain the man of all the blood he had in his body.

"Whatever," Sean said, "You can take care of your whore, I'll take care of mine."

I tensed, "She is not a whore."

"Fuck yes she is," it was astonishing, how a lawyer could fall from intellectual to drunken hick within just a few hours, "Fucking a _dead man_, she's no more than some cheap-ass fangbanger who doesn't—"

All the careful work I'd just put into not hurting the man was just dissolved into nothing, and I'd moved faster than I could think, smashing the man against his car and forgetting completely to keep myself under control.

--

**Okay, so, I'm working on Chapter Nine, ASAP. I hope I've left you pleasantly entertained. I also hope you will review.**

**I'd like to say thank you to everyone who's been reading. I think you all are really AWESOME readers, who stick with me even when I take a millenium to update.**

**See you chapter nine! Drop me a review!**


	9. Chapter Nine

**Okay everyone. We're once again back in business. Now, it took me so long because, originally, this chapter was 16 pages—twice this 'lil diddy. I did QUITE the editing, cut it in half, and I'm injecting Bill into this 16-page thing. So, I have chapter ELEVEN written, just have to write chapter ten. :]**

**But here's nine. I'm not sure how I feel about it, since I've gone through its editing so many frickin' times, but I SERIOUSLY hope you all love it!!!**

**I've gotten so many great reviews recently, and I'm psyched that you're all responding to this so well. I just keep getting some awesome ideas, and can't wait to put 'em all out there for you.**

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**Reviews-**

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**Piper175: **Well… never back for long. It'll take me over a week for SURE to get out my next update, so it'll be a while. Thanks for still reading, even though I'm so hopelessly sporadic!!

**TheNextBestThing36:** Thank you, thank you!! Hopefully this is just as fantabulous.

**Redandsparkly:** Thanks!! And, I think making fun of Sookie is one of my favorite parts of this story. It's just too fun.

**CrazyforBill:** You read at EXACTLY the right time. I seriously got your review email, when I began writing the lil' introductory bit. So, lucky, lucky you. :P I'm really glad you like it, of course!!

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**Chapter Nine: **Where the Lines Overlap.

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I knew he wasn't going to pick up, but I still felt it was necessary to call. I was holding on to my cell phone so tightly that I thought I might break it, and when the thing finally got to voicemail I snapped it shut so fast that the clapping sound it made attracted the attention of a few others around me. I still kept it in my hands, clutching it in my lap as I tried to decide what it was I should be doing, because… well… I felt useless. I sat here, a cheater, a liar, a naïve little girl without any legitimate concept of reality—

There were a few reasons why I hated hospitals. The first one was the lighting. Everything was so fluorescent, the lights harsh and unforgiving, the walls either overly white or a sickeningly sweet pastel that made it hard to look at for extended periods. So, I closed my eyes, my head falling into my hands, trying to wipe away any feeling of sleepiness or helplessness that I was sure was apparent there. That's when the second reason hit.

It reeked of cleaning materials. It was kind of cliché, seeing as everyone seems to hate the smell of hospitals, but even the smallest wiff of 409 made me want to vomit. So of course, my stomach was twisting uncomfortably with every new breath I took.

Then, there was number three.

I wasn't the only one in the waiting room of this particular emergency room. Nor was I the most hysterical. In all actuality, I was relatively calm. I was pale, sweating, and I looked sick, but I wasn't crying. I wasn't even really afraid. I knew Sean was going to be fine, he hadn't lost any overly-significant amount of blood, despite the fact that he had been attacked by…

I got up and ran into the bathroom, throwing open a stall door and hurling myself at the toilet, quickly expelling my lunch.

I couldn't think about that. I just couldn't.

Running one hand through my hair, the other reached up to flush the toilet. I sat against the wall, breathing as best I could. I felt disgusting, heaving next to the toilet on the floor of a hospital bathroom—how much more pathetic could I possibly get? I mean, I'd helplessly fallen for someone I should never have even _trusted_ in the first place, began to silently hate my own husband with every fiber of my being, had started running with vampires, disregarding my entire life, and now, here I was, puking in a hospital bathroom.

I let out a shaky breath before forcing myself stand and walk to the sink. I used a paper towel to wash my face, and did the best I could when it came to rinsing out my mouth, ignoring those who walked by behind me wondering what could have possibly happened to me. I couldn't blame them, I looked like shit. My hair was a mess, and my T-shirt-and-jeans combo making me look like someone's kid, not someone's wife. Top all of that off with the puking, and the fact that I looked like I may pass out couldn't be helping anything at all.

I studied my reflection in the mirror, weariness taking over and making the image of me look sour.

I pushed away from the sink, leaving the bathroom and taking my seat back in my chair, flipping my phone back open.

"Bill," I breathed, "I… I um…" I wanted to scream at him and tell him how stupid he was. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking. I wanted to ask him to please, please tell me that this wasn't his fault, and that I wasn't the stupid one for actually trusting him.

I bounced my leg once, practically kicking the ground, "If you know why I'm calling," I shut my eyes tightly together, "I… Just don't try to call me. Please." I shut the phone quickly, the faster I got it done, that faster it would be over.

It didn't feel over, though, when I hung up the phone. It just felt sorely anticlimactic.

It didn't feel over when I was finally in Sean's room, looking at him with a sense of horror.

He was broken, but alive. A cast was on his arm, blood-stained bandages covering areas of his skin. His eyes were weary, glazed and clouded. He looked exhausted, but… alive. He'd escape the angry grasp of a vampire and lived to tell the tale. Normally, anyone in his shoes would be reveling in the fact that they could still breathe, but, he wasn't doing anything of the sort, and I could only feel that somehow I was to blame.

"Um… hey," I said, staying a safe distance away from his bed. The machine next to him kept a steady beat, as if our silence was set to rhythm. The room he was in was much too small, I kept my back as close as possible to the wall, shoulders sometimes brushing the freezing surface and sending a shiver all the way down my spine. Each time it happened I felt somehow awkward, as though the movement was uncalled for. "You're going to be fine. I'm sure you'll be back to your normal self before you know it."

The words came out supportive, happy, almost. I don't know exactly how I managed that, but I was glad I did.

His eyes kept their focus on me, and I couldn't look back at him. My focus was on the LCD screen next to him, tracking his heartbeat. "Why are you here?" he questioned, and I could feel his eyes try to desperately probe deeper, and I wanted to offer up some higher meaning besides pure _guilt_, but I really just couldn't. I fell short at the thought. I was a horrible, horrible person, and I knew this better than anyone, even him.

Sure, he wasn't the best husband, but that didn't mean that I had to be the worst wife.

"I'm sorry," I said, "For lying."

"Just go, Abby. Please."

I swallowed, smiling bitterly, "I know this is my fault, but I'm not letting you make me feel any worse," I let out a sharp bit of air, as if my confidence rose with each release of carbon dioxide. I _wanted_ to be angry. I never got the chance to be angry, and the words were soon spilling out of my mouth like water from a faucet, "Who would you like me to call first Sean? I know for _sure_ that there's at least one, I mean, it's not like you're the one getting lipstick on your collar, and I'm not naïve enough to rationalize it anymore. You realize that this is just one huge cliché? Our relationship?" I vigorously gestured between us, "We're a joke. And it doesn't matter how much I loved you, we can't do this anymore. Not to ourselves and certainly not to each other."

Saying that made me feel both better and worse at the same time. This wasn't the time to offer up such an explanation, but, really, when _was_ the time? When was I going to get around to telling him this? Never, if I knew myself as well as I thought I did. And while riding off of my own little adrenaline high from my phone call to Bill, I figured that now was as good a time as any.

"Yeah, well I don't think I've put you in the hospital recently," he snapped, "What the fuck were you thinking? He's a vampire, Abby. A vampire." His eyes were dark, voice hoarse as he spat the words at me.

"No shit?" I said back, voice just as scathing, "Sean, I… I know it's fucked up."

"I still fucking love you," he muttered, "That's what's fucked up." He was angry, I could tell, but so tired that it didn't really even matter. He didn't want to fight. I felt the same way really, I was emotionally drained. Physically… well, I felt pretty fine, a little sick, but overall… good.

That was Bill's doing, I remembered, which only made me feel even more ill.

I rolled my eyes, "I have to get out of here. I'm glad you're okay, but…" I turned towards the door, "I called work. I'm guessing someone you know will be here soon enough."

I stuffed my hands in my pockets, "We'll talk once you're better, thinking straight."

"Have fun with your vampire," he said loudly, "Abs, I never really pictured you as that type of girl."

I opened the door, "Well, Sean, I'm not really the same girl anymore."

What was it with me and clichés? Was I some sort of cliché magnet? The sad thing was, as stupid I felt when I said it, it was the truth. It was like I went through some freak transformation, and now that I was out on the other side of it, I wasn't sure whether or not it was really a good thing.

I shut the door quickly, ignoring the flood of angry profanity that ensued as I left him. Honestly, that was the most explicit language I had ever heard Sean use, which made me doubt even further how well I really knew my husband.

Honestly, ignoring Sean made this situation I had been dreading for days that much easier. I had too much on my mind now to worry about how Sean, of all people, was feeling.

I left the hospital quickly, practically flying out its doors to my car, sliding in the front seat and pounding on the steering wheel. I didn't know what to _do_. My entire body was alit with anger, I was seething with it, and my body ached with it. I could feel myself overheat, my eyes wet with frustration, tears finally pushing themselves over the edge and running down my hot face like the traitorous wretches they were. I was even angrier at them, at myself, for allowing myself to cry.

Sean was too drunk when he was brought in to get the police's attention with a suspect, but… as soon as I heard the word 'vampire' I could feel my heart drop to my toes.

I kept crying, my chest heaving with each labored sob. My hands clenched the steering wheel with all the strength I had, knuckles white, muscles quickly growing sore. "_Fuck!_" I yelled loudly, hands prying from the steering wheel to hit it hard, horn flaring in response, "Oh shut up!" I shrieked, earning a few glances from passersby.

Liars. Somehow, I was constantly surrounded by liars. Liars who say they love you, liars who… who act as if they would never, ever hurt you.

Bill never made the promise, not in words. But… I hated that I didn't think him capable of something like this. He seemed so controlled, so solid. I bit her lip, wiping the tears from my face and trying to shake the disturbing feeling creeping up my spine.

I couldn't do this. I couldn't be with someone who... I didn't want some vigilante who hurt anyone who hurt me. God, that even sounded stupid.

I didn't want to want him _so_ badly, the thought of not seeing him again, not kissing him again, made my weak human emotions blister with overuse. The need for him spilled from me, mixing with the anger and pain, creating this horrible, hollowed feeling inside.

I held my abdomen, holding myself together as I started to breathe again, trying to erase Bill from my mind to the best of my ability. Every time I tried, every time I cursed his name and relented to myself how stupid and horrible he was for what he did, regardless of what Sean did to set him off, I was refreshed with the most bitter sweet images of just the night before. Despite my repulsion, my mind kept bringing them up, Bill and I intertwined on that couch. Him inside me, pushing me to the edge, pulling me up and up before allowing me to fall in such a brilliant fashion, lips on my neck, licking and sucking my blood until I could only find release in trying to scream his name—my body heated up at the mere thought. Fuck him for doing this to me, for wrapping me up in him, and then painfully stabbing me in the back.

It took me much too long to regain my composure, and when I finally did, I drove directly home, and packed my bags.

--

"Abby?"

I looked up, looking at the ceiling with tired eyes, "What, Roy?" It was the first time we'd talked in much too long, I felt obligated to call him. Mainly it was also because my mother wished to speak to him, but our small amount of time on the phone already alluded to my trouble. I felt horrible, like some washed up woman who was just floating through life in murky water.

"You should get some sleep."

"Tried, failed," I muttered, "Don't worry about me, it's mom's day, we're thinking about her, not me, her." In fact, this was the truth. It was one week since I decided to leave my house and all remnants of my broken marriage, and, now, it was my mother's birthday. That is, after all, the only reason Roy even called, to say hello to Mom. But, of course, after a few short minutes on the phone, she pawned it off to her frazzled daughter whose life was quickly being crushed to unrecognizable pieces and forced to be rebuilt.

Of course, it'd all blow over soon, right?

School was the hardest part out of all of it. Having to smile and act as if everything was perfectly fine wasn't something I quite enjoyed. But, it gave me something to do, a distraction for all this craziness with one, pure constant in my life. I loved those kids, and knew that without them, I'd be up in my room crying constantly from then until… well, until some unforeseeable point in the future.

My phone was constantly away from me, on my nightstand. I never looked at it, until I would go to bed, checking the messages and texts once, deleting as fast as I could the ones that held that brilliantly smooth voice that I just couldn't hear. The first time I listened to one of his messages, I found myself practically spasming with need, Bill's blood's effect on my body making it more and more fucking impossible to hate him.

And the _dreams_, dear god, I didn't know I could be that creative.

Roy huffed on the phone, like I was being the immature sister I was, "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

I shut my eyes tightly, "You know practically everything." Of course, I left out the tiny little part about Bill, the blood, and the attack that made my break-up so much easier. I really couldn't picture myself explaining to my brother why I was still so infatuated with Bill, or why I still felt myself grow increasingly aroused at the thought of him, how, in its most simplest form, I still wanted to be with him.

Primarily because (Well, besides the blood thing) I wasn't really _sure_. I mean, I had such strong feelings for Bill after such a small amount of time—What was that Romeo and Juliet quote? "These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die, like fire and gunpowder, which as they kiss consume," Well, dear Friar Lawrence, my sentiments exactly. I was thrown at Bill in a point of my life where I really wasn't sure what it was I wanted and the feelings I had and the things I wanted were all just too great for me to handle. They… exploded. And eventually… they will fizzle out. I just need to wait.

"You're a really shitty liar, Abs," he said, "And I don't care if you're all grown up now, that hasn't changed."

I sighed, even now, he was still totally normal. It was so weird, how I felt so different, and Roy was the exact same. That's why I loved my brother. "It's… I… I met this guy," I swallowed, feeling that Bill was so much more than just some guy, "And… Roy… he's beyond fantastic. He's perfect, he's…" I bit my lip, my hand rubbing that spot on my neck, "he's a fucking idiot vampire. And he's the one who hurt Sean, and I know there's a bunch of other horrible things he's done that I just couldn't live with on my conscience, and I hate him," I was talking at the speed of light, and when I was finished, I ran my hand through my hair, sheepishly looking out the window, "Happy?" My voice broke a bit as I said it, my eyes blurring slightly as I tried to see through the tears forming within them. I couldn't help but think that I sounded like some four-year-old who got mad at the neighbor boy for ripping the head off her doll.

But the doll, in this situation, wasn't _just_ Sean, but… everything. Everything was different now. I wasn't going to be able to live my life the same way, _be_ the same way again.

I blinked furiously. I was _not_ crying again.

"How'd you meet a _vampire_?" he asked, "You work in a high school."

I rolled my eyes, "That's what you find fault with."

"Well, yeah," he said, "That's slightly unortho—"

"Jessica Hamby isn't dead, she was turned into a vampire. Her boyfriend, a human, was working at my school… B-Bill," I could barely say his _name_, "lives with her, like a babysitter," I chuckled bitterly, realizing how idiotic this whole thing sounded.

"You're in love with a vampire named _Bill_?" After that, he started laughing, "Of all the vampires, you choose a guy named 'Bill'. Man, I was a bit skeptical at first, but this sounds like something you'd do—"

"Roy, it isn't _funny_. He put Sean in the hospital—"

"Didn't kill him," Roy said, "Not like it matters, Sean was an asshole. I'm glad to see you're rid of the bastard. Now, you can visit," I rolled my eyes, "And you don't really seem to hate him all that much if he's so _fantastic_." He sing-songed that last bit, as if making light of the entire situation made this somehow easier for me. He was wrong, but whatever.

"He's killed people," I said, "Like, killed them, and ate them. That doesn't bother you?"

"Didn't you know that from the beginning?" he asked, "Isn't that part of the vampire thing?"

I sighed, "I know. I fucking know," I thought for a moment, "It's like… Have you ever just _known_ something was a bad idea, despite your entire being telling you otherwise? I'm a gigantic walking contradiction. Straight of a Green Day video."

"Well, I feel that way about chocolate chip cookies."

"Roy—"

"No, I'm being serious, here," he said, "I love chocolate chip cookies, they're always around here, and I don't eat them… often."

"But you still _do_," I snapped, "and I'm not comparing Bill to a cookie, Roy. It is _not_ the same thing."

"I know that, Abby," he said, "But, if it really is messing you up this much—"

"Do _not_," I said sternly, "Say what I think you're going to. Please."

"Abby—"

"This is why I didn't want to tell you in the first place," I said roughly, standing, bare feet touching the cold floor and sending a chill through my spine. I just needed a break. I needed to think, get away from this feeling of utter heartbreak that was swelling up inside my chest. I muttered a bye, told him I may call him later, and hung up.

While it was still daylight, I had to get back to the house and grab some more of my things. I'd been making trips every few days to do just that, always going in the daytime grabbing my stuff, and leaving.

The drive down was always the worst part. Anytime I was alone—and I did prefer to go back to my house alone—I was always stuck with my own thoughts in the car. And, of course, my own thoughts were always directed back to _him_. Being rid of these thoughts would make my life so much easier, but as long as I was still mad, or at least conflicted in regards to Bill, I would be thinking about him more than usual anyway.

Could I really be blamed though? I desperately wanted to be angry, but I just couldn't. Picturing his face alerted all my senses, I could taste him on my lips, hear him speak, feel his skin on my finger tips. I could feel everything. It left me either so pissed off I could barely speak, or so hopelessly sad—both worsened only by the fact that both feelings were horribly pathetic.

Suddenly Bill's hands were on my breasts, groping, tweaking, teasing me to the point where I could barely breathe, and sat down on my old couch. His lips were on my neck, teeth nipping me and making me moan. He headed farther and farther south, sliding my legs apart until I emitted a gasp, feeling his tongue graze me, circling my nub with a slow and focused finesse that made my back arch and hips rock with pleasure. I could feel myself grow wetter by the second, and was finally appeased by him sliding his fingers inside of me, tongue still encircling my clit with dazzling fervor, and as I shut my eyes I could feel my mouth fall open in a silent scream, lips begging to be kissed by the man who _should_ be there… but wasn't.

I sat up quickly, pulling my skirt back down. I could feel my face flush in embarrassment, even though no one was there to see. I walked to the bathroom, washing my hands and trying to swallow down my anger even more. How could I let myself lose control like that? I bit my lip, turning a drying my hands.

I was pathetic. My mind was pathetic. My imagination ran wild with Bill's blood, pulling me along without the ability to control it. I grabbed my things, the last of what I really wanted, what I really _needed_, and went back out to my car. I threw my stuff in the back seat, walking down to the mailbox and opening it, sorting through the letters to see what was mine.

When I looked up, I screamed.

There was this hedge, between our house and the next. It had been there for ages, standing tall and green as a divider between us and the neighbor's home. In the spring, it'd get these little white flowers, the tiniest things in the world. They were gone now, summer scattering the last of them onto the driveway's cement. The splayed white flowers weren't pristine anymore, but dotted and speckled and dyed a dark red. The sticky liquid splayed the driveway, its vibrant and deep color looking as a dark and serious contradiction to the beautiful summer surrounding me.

My eyes traveled up the hedge, the blood splotches on the sidewalk guiding me up to a cold, white hand, drained completely of all… life.

People who don't have an open mind think that vampires are just walking dead bodies. But honestly, it's a lot different when you see a dead being in front of you. And the hand was all it took for me to realize that this person was not alive, and I my body shivered with this cold feeling that suddenly flourished inside of me.

I took a step closer, examining the hedge, screaming even louder when I realized who it was tangled into the hedges: a girl who was _not_ twenty-one, but still spending her night at Fangtasia.

A neighbor walked outside, holding a phone and dialing quickly 911, but I couldn't move. My eyes were locked on Cassandra's, pale and glazed in a sickly gleam. Her body was too pale, clothes different from the ones she wore that night, which made me feel oddly relieved, but at the same time I suddenly turned and once again was forced to vomit.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Sooo. Remember how I said that I just cut the last chapter in half, and am injecting some Bill into the middle of it all?**

**Well, that was, at first, pointless. It was just a way for me to draw out the storyline so I didn't feel like I was rushing things along, because I feel like I do that often.**

**Turns out, though, that this chapter has become INTEGRAL to my plot. Which does exist. There is a point to all my stories, dear readers. They are not just romantic fluff (but, that's always nice too, right?).**

**So, this chapter is a bit short, and for this I am so, so sorry. Hopefully you don't mind. And, once again, I apologize for the delay. I'm also working on IIKM's next chapter (which is delicious), so I may be spreading myself a bit thin. Thankfully, I have less than a month of school remaining, so I will write like NO ONE's business. That, and we all know True Blood is making its way back onto our beloved TV sets on June 12, so I will be brimming with motivation!! Especially because… well… Bill is kidnapped. And Sam is going off to find his family (rumor has it, he meets his little brother. Upon hearing this, I almost had a heart attack. Can we say hot? Yes, yes we can.) So, in response to the Sookie/Eric and Sookie/Alcide—I only know who he is through Entertainment Weekly and my book-reading friends, I do still oppose the books—I just **_**have**_** to keep our Bill finding love. As well as Sam. And Jason, once I get around to writing UTG.**

**You should all know, that while it takes me AGES to write out my actual chapters, my brain is always writing up some ideas. I play stuff out in my head when I'm bored, like a little play. It's fun. Point is, I'm still THINKING about UTG (thought about our Jason/Emily making up-session—at which point I realized I haven't given them a LEGIT sex scene as of yet. Which is uncommon after eight chapters, because I suddenly began writing a lot of sex into my stories. Of course, this doesn't seem uncommon to you folks, because you have never seen my last FF author account—if you're truly, truly curious, and like adorable HP oneshots and bad anime fics, you may check it out— .inspiration —I wrote T, I wrote fluff. Apparently, with age, comes a realization that sex is crucial to interesting plotlines involving adultery, rebellious drug-dealing shifters, and an ex-protesting, ex-journalist, ex-addict human with an affinity for Jason-I'll-fuck-anything-Stackhouse. Oh shit, I'm still speaking parenthetically) so, you can expect more of UTG soon enough. I promise.**

**OH, and in other news! I actually DO have an idea for a decent Eric fic. I do not know whether or not I'll actually write it, but it's in my noggin. The girl in it has captured my interest. And I think you'd like her too. Should I go for it? Sound off in a review, pleeeease.**

**And, I just recently realized that, since I'm actually going to finish these fics, and I've created my own little storyline, I'm available to the amazing sub-culture of SEQUEL fics.**

**MAYBE even prequels!! In the IIKM case, at least.**

**Are you excited? I am, for sure.**

**Well, that's it. If you did read all this, I applaud you, that is pretty damn awesome. I know I wrote a lot in this lil' Author's Note, but I love talking to you guys. It's an easy thing to do. Haha. I also like to think that you're actually curious about who I am, and why it's taking me so DAMN long to crank out a chapter. And, if you couldn't tell, I love talking almost as much as I love to write. This is a page-long authors note, which is surprising. Whoops. Oh, well.**

**Now, onto the tenth chapter!**

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**Reviews: (there are seven. Whoooot.)**

**Awesome:** Gracias. Hope you didn't wait too long.

**Piper1715: **Too long? I hope not!

**Blooddrunk:** Thank you! Sookie gets on my nerves too. And Abby is just so damn spiffy, ain't she?

**Murgatroid-98:** Yeah, I know. I've been piling on the crap for her, haven't I? Sean is a jerk, and he is lucky Bill didn't kill him. And I'm wondering too, because I have yet to solve that little problem. And I love long chapters. But, I think that slowing myself down makes everything… better. Personally.

**TheNextBestThing36:** Thank you!! And… yeah… still a wait. But hopefully not a bad one.

**Redandsparkly:** I don't think I could write a good chaptered Sookie/Bill story without… going even crazier than I am with this one, actually. And, I prefer to keep things as… true to the story as I can. And Sookie's kind of annoying sometimes. This is why I venture into OC-dom. That, and I LOVE my awesome OCs. I'm glad you're enjoying the fic!!!

**CrazyforBill:** Haha, thanks. I'm happy you're likin' it!

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**Chapter Ten:** Foundations.

**--**

"Of course not!" Sookie exclaimed, rolling her eyes, "What was she _supposed_ to do? I don't blame her for never speaking to you again, but now we have a lawsuit on our hands that we will _not_ win if it's just a bunch of vampires up on the stand!"

"Well maybe you should have been a little more careful in your screening process before you lawyer up with some ignorant—"

"Oh shut _up_, Bill," she said loudly, rolling her head in annoyance, "Maybe you should've been more careful, and not chosen some poor _married_ girl to be your next girlfriend!" She crossed her arms, pacing back and forth as we both awaited Eric's arrival to the back, tension mounting in the process.

I shook my head, "Stop talking as if you know everything."

"She's human, Bill. She's a helluva lot weaker than you are. That I know."

"I am aware! And that is precisely why I wasn't going to let that man walk into that house in that condition and—" I was so angry, that I had to stop myself before I spoke any further. I clenched my fists and turned and rested my head against the wall, pounding my fist against it once, creating a hollowed thud that echoed through the office. "Hell, Sookie, I would not have been able to stop myself had he actually hurt her, and you would be dealing with a dead lawyer, not a broken one." Sookie growled in response, tossing her head back as though overcome with a silent sense of maniacal laughter, the kind when one finds something to aggravating that it is unintentionally hilarious.

"The dead one would be easier to hide, I must admit," Eric said, sauntering in and looking at me in a seemingly amused fashion. Of course, he probably thought it _outrageously_ amusing, my total inability to stay away from trouble and the women who would inevitably cause it. Bitter as I was due to my own missteps, I was primarily and most poignantly saddened by the biggest consequence of my actions: the fact that Abby was utterly ignoring me completely, rejecting my attempts to speak to her.

And it was so agonizing. I felt this sense that if I could just _talk_ with her, she would understand. But, instead, I was forced to keep making futile attempts to merely see her again. Needless to reiterate: these all failed.

She was very, very good at staying away. And, I was much too frightened of truly scaring her off to make any overly brash attempt to see her. So, I tried to content myself with reimagining her face, or the sound of her voice, even though this was somehow hard to conjure. Even the simplest curve of her lips seemed almost lost to me, and it was maddening.

Though, now, looking at Sookie, I was more inclined to anger. My attitude had done nothing but sour, and sitting in the small, closed in office with little or no room to think without being bombarded by questions of my actions—as if I had not already done that myself—was making it worsen by the minute, and soon I would spoil, and decide to snap someone's neck.

Keeping myself under control, to the best of my ability, I looked to Eric, "I am sorry." I stated it as simply and as seriously as I could, jaw taught from the resentment growing in my chest with each second. I stood, trying to appear unphased by Eric's manner and whatever it was he had to say as a form of chastisement. This also set me apart by the _obviously_ perturbed Sookie, who was running around like office like a fly that just cannot seem to get out a window in the middle of summer. Of course, Eric was willing to look past this, his overall infatuation with her overriding her utterly crazed tendencies of the current moment.

"I know," Eric darkly mused, sitting in the chair and looking over at Sookie, "He has done something to this effect before, you said?"

Of course, Sookie had already expressed her feeling on the situation to Eric multiple times. The fact of the matter was, Eric was wholly unable to _pin_ the situation onto anyone in particular until the lawyer's connection to Abby was unearthed.

This, of course, set Eric in such a shock—that I, as apparently _good_ I am could ever convince a respectable young woman into adultery. Not that I had done any convincing. If anything, she was the one convincing me. I do admit that I could have exercised some form of self-restraint, but, in all fairness, she could have as well. After all, we are both acting adults.

"Somethin' like it," she muttered, remembering the Uncle Bartlett fiasco of so long ago. I felt my mouth twitch in irritation, and was soon motioned to sit down. I, simply, was not capable of any form of control that allowed me to live a somewhat-normal existence. I was not going to put Abby in any kind of danger, as I couldn't bear the consequences.

"Well, you must admit that the vigilante thing is kind of attractive, no?" I heard from my right, to see _her_ standing in the doorway, and felt my muscles tense and chest ache at the sight of her.

Sookie rolled her eyes, to which Abby continued, "Well, you _did_ date him too," she raised an eyebrow, "And, judging by your current companion, you have a thing for bad boys."

Sookie scoffed, "And you know this _how_? I wasn't aware you were a teacher and a psychologist on the side."

"Well," Abby said, "I didn't realize you would gain such a little attitude. I mean, I am currently going through a divorce, a break-up, and I'm living with my mother—who would rather see me _dead_ than divorced—whose only real friend is now a 19 year old vampire. So, obviously, your life is currently worse than mine, and I apologize that my own observations perturbed you so."

"I…" Sookie was currently speechless, obviously listening in on Abby's mind, considering it must be loud in the otherwise-silent room.

Abby looked fantastic. Then again, she always had and, in my opinion, always will. I would presume that after my time spent apart from her, contemplating my actions on that night, had sprung about a new feeling my gut that I was positive could only really be apparent after I realized exactly what it is I had done by harming Abby's husband.

I felt a little pathetic, honestly, so attuned to the whims of this pretty girl. And seeing her so somber due to my actions, even aggrieved at the loss of her ordinary life, made me myself feel distressed. I was in love with her, enthralled by her very presence, yet still could not fully regret my actions because I felt this way.

It was complicated, but such complexity only made perfect sense.

I mean, look at her now. She looked the same, really, beautiful blue eyes shining and cutting through the dim fluorescent lighting. But she was paler, her hair was a bit messier, her face make-up free, making her appear more youthful, less put-together than usual.

I wanted to say something, but couldn't bring myself to do so.

"Let's play nice," Eric responded to her, eyebrow raised, "No trouble pulling you out here this late, I trust?"

"None at all," she answered, moving past me, eyes staring when she did so, "Jessica is here as well, but she chose to wait in the car and absolve all responsibility for my being here. Let's not keep her waiting, yes? I'd like to cut this short, if possible. Do you hold any responsibility for the death of Cassandra Collins?"

"Are we playing detective?"

She rolled her eyes, and crossed one smooth leg over the other, her skirt sliding up her right thigh, "I call it more, finding out why there was a dead girl in my front lawn." Her tone took an abrupt turn as she continued, swallowing before doing so, "She… _was_ only 21. And she did not deserve to die. So, if it was your fault," her voice was growing thicker, "Please, dear god, just tell me it was so I can just blame someone already."

"Eric?" Sookie asked, obviously surprised at the question, voice hollow and almost horrified. Had I not been paying such close attention to Abby, I'd have tried to read deeper into it. Maybe, I thought fleetingly, she was afraid that Eric wasn't being completely _honest_ with her. And I thought Abby naïve.

But the preoccupation with Abby had won out over the conflict about to brew if Eric answered wrong to this particular question. My jaw tightened, "Eric."

He seemed intrigued, not only by her directness in her speaking, but in my choice to speak as well. I saw Abby's lips flicker, and for the slightest second a smiled rested upon them.

"I had no part in that." He said coolly, looking back at me with raised eyebrows, revealing what appeared to be surprise.

"Then who did?" she said loudly, trying to regain his attention. It worked, seeing as his eyes slid back down to her.

"I don't know."

"You're supposed to know."

"Smart one, you've got there, Billy."

"Don't talk to him," she said sternly, "Talk to me, please. I may be just a human, but I can still communicate like an adult."

I noticed, not unhappily, that she made no reference to that fact that we had not been talking for the past insurmountable amount of days. And, in yet another magnificent expression showing how she is so unlike the Sookie standing before me, she made no snide and disgruntled quip about how my actions were unnecessary or overtly protective or annoying. She simply directed her frustrations are Eric, which made me smirk in satisfaction.

"I'm sorry," he said, "But I do need to know if you know if your husband—"

"Ex-husband, Eric," she corrected, looking over to Sookie as she giggled. Abby smiled again. Apparently, she made a joke.

"If he had any other vampire connections?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Well… I stole this," she rummaged through her bag, pulling out a blackberry and handing it to him, "You can keep it. God knows he won't need it, can't even move his hand. I would imagine that there are some other _interesting_ clientele, considering how long he's out of Saturday nights. I know that he can't _possibly_ keep it up that long without… like… V, or something. But I _really_ doubt he's that stupid."

Sookie laughed, Eric smirked, and I held my tongue before risking further scrutiny. Personally, I'd say he _is_ that stupid, but I don't think Abby would much appreciate my opinions.

"I heard he can't move much," Eric said, "How long will it take him to recover?"

She shrugged, "I'm not sure. I haven't spoken to him in a while. You should call up his girlfriend," she smiled wryly, "I'm sure she would know."

Sookie took it upon herself to answer, "You know, I think that you actually are handling all this very well. I'm actually a little envious on how you've been so… _normal_ despite all this."

"I'm glad you think so," she answered.

Eric looked at her curiously, "You do realize that this girl—"

"Cassandra."

"--was most likely a… warning. You could, theoretically, be in danger."

"What do you mean?"

"If we incriminate your husband, the case he's put against us will be dropped—"

"He thinks it's your fault?"

"We allowed it to happen," he said, "And our main defense can't be the _power of love_, Abby."

"…I…" She bit her lip, "I don't think…."

"You shouldn't be too worried," Sookie said, smiling a bit, "You've got Bill watching over you, whether you like it or not. And I'm sure Eric would look out for you, if it needed to be done."

"Your affiliation with your husband," Eric said, "Could land you into some… dangerous circumstances. Of course, we'd like to avoid this."

"Yeah," Abby said, "Avoiding is what I'd like to accomplish. But, we're getting _divorced_, I'm not living there anymore, and honestly, my contempt for him is overwhelming. So, I think the odds of a vampire hunting me down are—"

"Higher than you expect," Eric said, "Trust me. Such a drastic measure means that there had to be at least some form of contact beforehand—"

"Like a threat, or something, right?" Sookie asked, sitting on the side of Eric desk and thinking aloud, "Abby, you'll learn pretty damn quickly that vampires don't give a damn who it is they're killing as long as it has an impact. They like putting on a show."

Abby nodded once, "I understand."

"I don't think you do," Eric said.

"I do," she pressed, "I get it. I'm in trouble. It's not _ideal_, but it's not surprising."

"You scared?" Eric asked.

"Probably less than I should be. I have a characteristic problem with that."

This time, Eric looked past her to me, "Don't let her out of your sight."

I saw her jaw tense, and Sookie's eyes darted to her, but Eric stayed totally focused on me, waiting for a nod.

So I gave him one.

"I should go," Abby stood suddenly, "Jess is waiting, and… I really feel a bit uncomfortable here."

Eric nodded. Sookie smiled, "Of course! It was really nice chattin' with you, even if it had to be under these circumstances."

"Yeah," she mumbled, "Bye." She turned, glancing once at me and biting her lip, rushing out of the room without really appearing to rush. She strode quickly, with purpose, running her hands through her hair and finally breaking out of the bar and walking along the side of it to lean against the brick and breathe.

I followed her, of course. It was like something was pulling me after her, I was attached on an invisible leash. I was not going to let her leave again. I could not let her go, and I did not even have her back yet.

It seemed so clear-cut to me. I wanted her, needed her, in some respects, and did not want to have to deal with another second without her.

The night around the bar was not very dark; I could see her clearly. She was not looking at me, but staring straight ahead of her, looking at nothing in particular. Her eyes were glistening, mouth quivering; it looked as if she might cry.

"Abby…" I muttered, wanting to venture closer, but keeping a relative distance. She looked over at me quickly, surprised by my sudden appearance, but then settled into a stubborn resolve. It was like she knew I was coming, and did not want to talk to me.

But, she did anyway.

"Don't give me some speech on how you didn't mean it, because we both know you did," she said, "And don't try to tell me that it's not going to happen again, because you can never be sure of that. And really, really don't try to tell me that you're—that you're sorry," her voice broke a bit, and she looked up, "Because… I kind of don't want you to be. But I don't want to forgive you, because… well… that would be too easy, because what you did was wrong."

"I—"

"I am _not_ done," she said sternly. Her eyes were pointed in front of her, not stubbornly not looking at me. She waited for a moment, and then continued, "And there are so many things about you, I've realized, that make me _so_ incredibly angry," she was desperately trying to keep her voice even, but it wasn't helping, "Like, how you hate talking about yourself. And how you're so protective. And how cold you are. And…" she wiped her face, biting her lip before letting out a quick, gasp-like sob. She bit her lip quickly, settling herself and soon continuing, words shaking as they left her lips, "And I've realized that in the sickest way possible, I l-love those things," she swallowed, "too. And I want to be able to be with you, but I…" She started crying, fully this time, and I took a tentative step closer to her, and another, and soon wrapped my arms around her, burying my face in her hair, as she cried on my neck, mumbling words under her breath in a frazzled blur.

She lid her hands up to my chest, pushing me back after a moment, "I don't know what to do," she whispered, wiping the wetness from my shoulder, and her face, muttering an apology.

I bent forward a bit, kissing her. She pulled back, "Bill… I…" I ignored her, pressing my lips to hers again, teasing her them apart, and deepening the kiss in such a way that elicited a moan, and when she once again pushed me back, my canines had already extended.

She hung her hands on my shoulders, and slid them towards my neck, thumb caressing my cheek, "Why do you do things like that?" She swallowed, "I'm… mad at you."

"I did what I did because I care too much about you to let you be hurt—even emotionally," I smiled a bit, "And while I love you more than you can ever imagine—"

"You… what?"

"I'm in love with you," I said simply. Her eyes got huge, and smaller, as if she was overtaken by some sort of confusion, and it was the greatest sight I'd ever seen, "But, I have the feeling that you were about to say something I do not want to hear, so, I'm going to keep kissing you until Jessica exits that car and pries you from my hands."

"I—" I cut her off with another kiss, followed by another, breaking after a moment and saying, "And you should know that these past couple of months have been pure hell."

"I know what you mean," she whispered, "I missed you."

Her lips were so soft that kissing her was almost hard to stop doing. It felt like a special privilege to taste her again, to tease her tongue into fighting me back whole-heartedly. She drug me forward until I couldn't step further, and proceeded to press her hips against me, and run her tongue across the top of my lip until I had to stop myself, disconnecting us and resting my head against the wall behind her, "Slow down," I whispered to the best of my ability, no sound really coming out my lips. She obliged, and panted next to me, head finding a spot to rest on my shoulder, hands wrapping around my waist and keeping me close.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"Don't be," I whispered back, moving to kiss the top of her head, "I've got you."

"I…" she swallowed, and let out a sudden shuddering breath, and I could feel wetness on my shoulder once again. She barely made a sound, so it took me a moment to register the choked gasps as sobs, and the shakes the result of tears.

I lowered a hand to her cheek, wrapping my free arm around her shoulders, "Shhh, Abby, it's okay."

She shook her head, "But… But it's not. It's _not_ Bill," she dropped her hands from me and wiped her eyes, which didn't do much to stop her crying, "I'm… I'm afraid of you, now. I… Before, I didn't understand what you meant, didn't want to think that this," she pulled hard on my shirt, "Could ever be bad… But I look at you, and I see Cassandra lying there on my front lawn, dead. And I see so many others, cold, limp, and blue because of someone who is like you… and… I know you would never hurt me," she nodded, as if to confirm this to herself, "And I love you… _so_ much," her voice broke and she took a second to compose herself and wipe another flood of tears from her cheeks, "But… I don't know how we would ever make this work. How… how could I love you if I'm afraid of what you could… and h-have done… or… I don't know if I can… do this." She scrunched her eyes together, "I don't know what to do. Because it hurts so much to not be around you, but… I…"

I shut my eyes, trying to sort my thoughts into intelligible words, "I know, Abby, that I've made mistakes with you. And I know that there's little likelihood of your… wanting to… give this a _real_ go, especially now… You are… the reason I'm in this whole mess," I offered an almost wretched laugh, "but I'd rather be dealing with this, with you, than anything else in the world."

"Of course you would say something so perfect at a time like this," she muttered bitterly, "Why does this have to be so complicated?" she asked that last part to herself, I think, so I kept myself silent.

"We'll… We'll deal with the rogue vampires who are apparently hunting me down," she said, "And… then we'll talk."

"You should come home with me," I suggested, tilting her head up and wiping her cheeks.

She smiled a bit, "It's a Thursday. I have work tomorrow."

"Right," I said bitterly, "School ends soon, right?"

She nodded, "Yes. I should leave… but, I'm just afraid that when I get away from you, I'm not going to want to come back."

I frowned, "Trust me, I will make it very difficult to escape me. I'm under orders, actually."

She giggled, "Mkay. Creepy, but appreciated," she looked up at me, smiling a bit. I leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"Bye," I brushed a hair behind her ear, looking for a moment into her eyes.

"Goodbye," she said, articulating clearly, trying to set herself straight. You know, we're _not_ just having sex," she said, turning and walking towards her car, "We are _not_ going to be that couple."

I smiled, "Yes ma'am."

She nodded, unlocking her door and shooing Jessica out of the passenger seat, sliding in and offering me a fleeting glance before pulling out of the parking lot and speeding off.

I didn't realize I was staring—I'm not really the _staring_ type. But, apparently, I was, seeing as Jessica came over and hit my arm to get my attention. "Jesus," she looked after the car, "Did you fuck it up?"

"What? No," I said, looking at her oddly.

"You're sure?"

I looked over at her, "Yes…"

"Okay," she said, "Just making sure. I mean, I saw you guys making out over there—_very private, by the way_—and figured that something had to have happened. But, I mean, I wasn't positive, considering the things she'd said about you earlier. And then I figured that maybe you were just trying to convince her that she _should_ forgive you by like… convincing her you can kiss well—" she stopped, "Er… you know what I mean. SO, needless to say, I was a bit confused."

"Why were you even watching us?"

"She's my best friend. It's what we do."

I rolled my eyes, "That's unnecessary. And inappropriate. I do not—"

"Oh, come _on_. Do you think I'm blind? I'm aware that you two are attracted to each other, and that you have—"

"Jessica!"

"Bill!!" she yelled back, rolling her eyes, "Stop being such a prude."

I sighed, "What would you prefer I be, Jessica?"

"Honest," she said, straightening herself up, "You'd be surprised; I can hold adult conversations. You may not have to bottle up all those emotions."

"I'm not—"

"I know, I know," she rolled her eyes, "What are you going to do tomorrow?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what are you going to do when you see her?"

I was quiet for a moment, "I was thinking I'd pick her up and bring her over. Nothing special. The more time she spends away from Shreveport, the better."

"Why?"

"Because, if she's there, the odds of her getting killed are much higher, Jessica."

"Oh," she said, "Do you think I should go see Hoyt tomorrow? I was thinking about it, but, I'm not sure, because he's been getting all hyped up about his new apartment and doesn't want to go anywhere else." She laughed a bit, and looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't care," I replied.

She looked over, "You're surrrre?"

"She said no sex," I said simply, "So, I'm guessing it won't matter if you're there or not." I paused for a moment, "Well, it didn't last time, either."

"Bill!"

"Jessica! I thought you wanted me to be honest."

"I can't believe you."

I shrugged, and kept driving.

**--**

**Well, that's all for tonight. I'll work for the next chapter, but you're still going to have to bear with me until school ends—which is very soon. I'm cranking things out as fast as I can!**

**Um… I don't really have that much to say. I kind of exhausted myself at the top of things. Yes, that AN was full of story-related info. You should check it out.**

**Or not. Whatever. It's not like I'll know.**

**Thanks for reading, you guys rock!**

**Oh, and reviews are fantastic. So fantastic. They brighten my day.**


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